Munchkin Oratoria: Thomas and Friends
by ArcMeow
Summary: Poor sap gets roped into another world. Gets picked up by a goddess, and is told he needs to fight monsters and crap if he wants the smallest sliver of a chance to go home. Fair enough. Not really. But beggars can't be choosers.
1. Volume 1 Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Thomas

It should've been a normal day, that stupid Tuesday.

"Yes, I'll be home for dinner, mom."

"Your father and I have been planning this for weeks now, you hear?"

She always did prefer redundancy to simple, crisp, and clear replies. "I'll be there by eight, and yes, they won't rope me into any more overtime. I promise."

"Good," she said. "See you soon sweetie."

"Bye for now, love you." I hung up.

The clouds weren't any more ominous than an hour or two of rain at their worst and judging by the annoyed traffic honking to a snail's pace, today was sure to be conducive for just not giving a fuck. Even after so many years there, having to cuddle with those goddamned audit pricks still ruffled my jimmies.

Crossing the street and dodging a stray newspaper floating in the stale wind, I swiped down the screen and checked the time: nine forty-five. I remember when I first started this job I made it a point to always show up thirty minutes early—with eight thirty at my latest, then the compliance department happened.

Damned audit bastards.

Smog blanketed the streets as sunlight filtered through in rays. The big burning ball of fire peeked over the horizon, yet the calm glow conflicted with the angry red road rage down here. It was a given how much traffic we got, but it didn't help attract people to pay more attention to the place. Cars, trucks, the occasional bus, and the many dozens of douchebags on motorbikes littered the streets of Tulley, and for us blessed enough to not need them suffered their presence anyway.

It was sheer dumb luck all those years ago how I'd landed a job just a few minutes away from my flat. The pro obviously was how I didn't have to go far every damn day. The con, however, was that I was the guy management went to to fix most of the shit that popped up. It wasn't bad per se, and less a testament of effort and more of necessity, I got some nice raises along the years and a nifty promotion that more or less allowed me to settle into a cushy career.

Now if only I had a life besides that.

Old street lamps on old sidewalks passed like an old cartoon's background while faded red fire hydrants punctuated every other block. Tulley was an older part of the city left behind by the times. There were no buildings higher up than twenty storeys, and its skyline was a uniform stonewashed grey—the structures having been built close to and aged together through the years. The streets were just as bland in dull asphalt, almost blending in uniform with the curb.

And then Hubert and Hubert Defense's office stuck out in vibrant aluminum paneling red like a bloody screaming pimple whenever the sun rose or set. That, or a bloody dick according to those hippie protesters. I was half a mind from running from the restructuring meeting in an hour. Half because murder was illegal, but a guy could dream, and half because not showing up could cost me my cushy job. Even if I'd already climbed my way up from the shit stains off management's boots.

A horn blared bloody murder.

"Get off the road dumbass!" The man in the too tight shirt honked up a storm from his beat-up sedan.

"Sorry," I said to the balding Pillsbury dough boy wannabe.

I was too caught up plotting a crime I'd failed to notice I'd already crossed into the next street. He wasn't familiar though, so that was a small mercy at least.

The one thing I hated about Tulley was despite the nice coffee shops, parks, grocers, and pretty much everyone who lived here was that anyone who got on these roads magically turned into grade A assholes like it was some shitty spell the city cast on them. Then again, that's probably what happens when the subway doesn't cut through your part of the metro.

"Fucking idiot," the man grumbled, then sped for all of five feet before stopping at the next rush hour queue of near eternity.

That guy could go suck it. Believe me when I say working for a military contractor doesn't help with anger management issues. Getting it done was easy enough in theory, but it was the clean-up that tripped off the feds. So yeah, that guy gets to maybe live for another few years if his road rage doesn't give him a stroke or heart attack somewhere down the road _before_ I went postal.

I went back on my way, merrily skipping—read as walked like a proper adult—to the schadenfreude of these poor louts suffering through traffic hell.

One block faded into another then a quick turn around the corner of the next building. And viola, the oldest McDonald's ever. For the metro at least.

I entered and was greeted with the aroma of too hot grease and fresh fries in the air. They held the promise of a proper day ahead.

"Hey Tom," said Casey. She was a new face, friendly and young and not that jaded yet with the ways of the world. A sweet summer child and a management trainee to boot. "You having the usual?"

"I shouldn't." Said common sense and my fears of bulking up again, but two critical issues over the past three days said I needed this more. "But I will anyway."

Casey scrunched her nose. "It pays my salary, you're doing me a service, Tom."

No need to make the world any less kind than it already was. And besides, she wasn't exactly here to actually man a store. Had she been working those fryers, and no matter what anyone said everyone—and I mean everyone—would one day end up working those beasts one way or another, would screw her skin up in a heartbeat. No, her type was the main office kind where all the other think tank people were, the well-kept hair and the properly observed skin care regimen said so.

She was like me.

A notification came with a buzz. It was ten now with the sun well above the low skyline, and I just received the first of today's shipment updates: munitions and replacement hammers were on point, but the barrels were delayed. Not outside of expectations, but things going out of plan still sucked anyway.

Casey punched out the numbers and I tapped my card on the terminal when she gestured to it.

Then a call came in. It was Jim from IT. Screw these incompetent shit biscuits, but as someone who carried weight with our own department, propriety demanded I answer as a proper professional, "Hey Jim."

"Hey Tom," a Laura answered back.

Fuck me sideways three ways to Thursday.

"H-hey, Laura"—shit shit shit—"is Jim doing alright?"

Note to self, that no good shit stain of a waste of matter is dead to me.

"He's fine Tom," she said, terse. "But you've got a meeting in ten minutes, and I am not getting in the same room with those demon spawn. Get your ass here. Now."

"I'm stuck in traffic, I'll be there soon." Maybe if I booked it to St. George's hospital I can still make it to Doc Zimmer's first appointment for a quick game of hookie?

"Baker street, the green apartment building just after the deli. Second floor, room three." That wasn't a threat but a statement of fact.

Ah, audit, fuck you guys. "You know what, I'm _really_ near the building already." I was five blocks away. "I'll be there soon."

"Good," she said, and hung up.

"Duty calls?" Casey passed me the paper bag that someone else prepared for her.

"Thanks, Case," I said. "See you tomorrow, maybe?"

She shrugged. "Maybe try that with a tonight next time?"

I sighed. "If I'm still alive by then, sure."

That was that. I tightened the straps of my backpack and prayed all the little nicks and doodads wouldn't stab me accidentally when I started running. Laura was a great cook, and an even better friend, but when audit started breathing down her neck our three years in college together went out the window faster than a guy could fall down a flight of stairs.

Or how I figured how long it'd take once she threw me off.

#

"Tom, we needed that file yesterday," Vito said. He was nursing a headache in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. His suit looked and smelled like shit and the guy really needed to get a life outside this rat hole.

We found a— rather _the_ bug in the gps locators earlier and so had to pull out all stops to release a patch and cover it up as soon as we could. This goddamn thing was what was causing us those problems Jim and the others had been wracking their heads over for the last two weeks, and had anything bad happened in that time we weren't watching, then shit would've splattered everywhere. Possibly literally.

The server gods were angry and demanded blood, we probably didn't have enough virgins on shift or something, but at least it wasn't the big guy, Simone, here himself doing the bitching. Maybe I ought to put 'plays Fortnite' as a plus for the next time we were looking for a recruit or something.

On the plus side, I got to cancel the meeting with audit so that was something, but on the horrible and not so fun side, I was stuck again in the office until the wee hours of the night.

And on the night of my parents' anniversary and siblings' birthdays too.

My eyes were already bogged down by ghost writings from staring at the codes all day, hoping against hope I'd see something different and wrong—not just different and stupid. The last guy who coded on this crap basket couldn't make a sentence with two words even after burning through all seven or so brain cells he had left, and that was being generous.

I closed my eyes hard and pressed on them with my palms. The throbbing pain behind them said I'd had more than enough time against the screens already. "Laura already got it twenty minutes ago, that bitch just needs to finish checking for anything off."

It was already eight-fifteen and I had yet to get away from here.

My watch buzzed. It was from mom. Fifteen minutes, it said.

It was hard being one of the most senior guys, but it had its perks. And as much as what little social life I had suffered, my team and bosses were mostly okay. For people I wanted to murder with my bare hands like every other day, that is. It was just how annoying technology was for being so prone to breaking down somewhere somehow eventually that topped the cake.

As much as we humans loved our little trinkets and improvement projects, we weren't as great at keeping things running like clockwork because the goddamn clock smiths weren't perfect. We were human no matter how skilled we were, and there would always be a little bit of stray code here or maybe a loose connection some somewhere and with such big and complex systems of both hardware and software there was so much dependence on the faith that all the devious little details on the edges of awareness would just come together and play a symphony out of this chaos. Maybe if there were magical computers that just did what we wanted then it'd all work out better, but tough luck there. We didn't have the budget for that.

The door burst open and in barged Nikita almost smacking against the clear glass. Her hair was a spectacular mess, but the victorious smile promised something else. "Laura said we're good, let's go live. Now."

Vito threw his paper cup hard into the waste bin and hooted as splotches of coffee decorated the fine carpet and his suit. Thus completing the shit theme he had going on.

I knocked my head against the glass table, the strength having left once that beautiful mess finally handed me my parole. It was over for now and I had better places to be. I started packing away my bag and the rest of my shit. "I gotta go, guys, dinner's waiting."

Vito waved my way, one hand up in the air and waving about his tie. "Tell your family I said hi."

Nikita slumped against her chair, the head of our department so drained from the drama we were getting from the top. "Get me a slice of my favorite too, please? For tomorrow?" she groaned out. "I'm serious."

Not even a triathlete could hold up her shit in front of those magnificent bastards. With a wave goodbye and no looking back, the elevator had me by the lobby the next moment and I was out the door faster than anyone had any right to be.

Our reservations were in this fancy restaurant in the only respectable mall complex in Tulley—which was just a few blocks away from here, thankfully.

My family was already there and I wasn't gonna miss any more of it than I already had. Why else was I working this hard for anyway. I didn't have too many ambitions besides finding immortality. And failing that, there was always making the people that mattered happy—and maybe finding someone else to share that happiness with.

My bag clanked away against my back. The little doodads and my laptop were all having a party inside and it was with high hopes I wouldn't regret forgetting to strap everything down after this. George hated me more than enough already. Seriously, I forgot to turn off the servers one time and poof, bad blood for all the years since then.

One street after another, then dash through the next block. One foot in front of the other. A steady but hurried pace under the power of human feet—and I'd sooner fly all the way there if I could. If only magic was real. But alas, such was life.

It was already so late.

I took my phone out and scrolled for mom, hit call, and ran on.

But one second turned into two, then to three. And still, silence. Not even a notification on why the call didn't go anywhere.

There wasn't anything wrong with my phone as far as I could tell. The screen was working just fine though it was stuck on the call loading animation. And yet there weren't any sounds coming out, nor any indication of a connection made.

Just more silence for the next minute or so that I kept running and hoping.

I hit back. Nothing happened. No matter how expensive or top of the line something was, it would, eventually, still break at one point or another. Even pressing down the power key wouldn't turn it off. It was too much to hope my family hadn't started yet, but it sucked even more to think they might be waiting, thinking I wouldn't come at all.

And without a call either.

I crossed the next street.

And kept going and going along the crosswalk, never reaching the next block.

The cross-walk pattern stayed on the white where my first step landed despite the bite of asphalt against my soles.

I was moving against the ground, or at least felt so, and yet I didn't. Good thing the streetlights were green to cross else I might've been ran over, but there were no cars anywhere.

And Tulley never ran out of traffic.

Walking faster didn't achieve anything more than wind me, even if I was half-running the next bit. Each step rattled all the way up my head and pushed and pulled and strained and still my body wouldn't move. It was like I was on some gigantic treadmill with the rest of the scenery as a backdrop with the colors set to something other than normal.

None of it was right.

I pinched myself and rode through the pain.

Nothing changed.

I gritted my teeth. It wasn't a dream, but it couldn't be reality either unless I ended up with some hallucinations for whatever reason. Was there some logical explanation for what was happening?

Turning back didn't change the scenery either, and I stayed locked facing forward. Neither could I move to either side, and even jumping didn't remove me from where I was cemented.

Taking in a deep breath, it was no small effort to stop and clear my thoughts. But it caught somewhere halfway down my throat as a ringing hissed against my ears together with a thumping pounding pulse. It was beginnings of something else, and I wasn't prepared to go have an episode right now. Not like this.

A slap and a flash of pain helped me focus. At least it wasn't dark out just yet.

But it was just my luck how the lights then dimmed.

From the lonely light of the one street lamp within view, in crept a cloud of shadows from behind it and god knew where.

It obscured the light and masked what little comfort I had left. There weren't any chemicals or combinations that could do all this to a person, but what did I know? I wasn't military—as stipulated in my contract—and I'd left behind my chemistry degree years ago. And even then I doubt I would've read up on something like _this_.

The cloud spread and clung against the air where it passed, held there like blooms of ink against a heavy gel. There was no wind to carry it had it been smoke, and yet the night was colder than I remembered.

The blackness spread like smoke and stilled like stone, the thick blooms deepening blacker and blacker until the light no longer phased it. It was now so black to the point that all manners of dimension were lost and it was like looking at a hole in reality.

It was wrong.

That's when it came for me. Slowly, oh so painfully slow, pulsating and stuttering and always moving ever forward, but it was clear as day how all of that creeping now inched its way to where I was stuck. The tendrils that had scattered before now angled the very ends of their growths at me. Like some terrible octopus poised to eat its prey beak first.

For what good it did, I still tried to run.

It made sense in my mind that I was moving. But my body did not, like I was stuck in space and not. I was not seeing any changes, and the dissonance threatened and gripped my heart. My breath came shallower and faster, ever faster, as my pulse strode in time with the coming blackness.

The first tendril was not just a foot away.

Then something bright hit the cloud and tore through the wrongness with rays of burning harsh white, and with it came the biting smell of rain.

The cloud spattered and screeched and raked against my eardrums and I wanted nothing more than to cry and scream and hit my head against the pavement from the discord, but my body was still frozen in space and even the small comfort of just being ablt to physically react or try to protect myself was taken away from me.

I bathed in the unnatural screaming, unable to answer with my own.

Then the harsh light cleaved through and parted the blackness into chunks, and where it hit the buildings and the streets the light burned red hot lines of glowing stone through. Trees fell, glass shattered, and stone burned. I didn't dare assume it heated them to that high a temperature in a flash, but I wasn't curious either on its effects on flesh and bone.

And the wrongness wasn't having any of it.

It accelerated and expanded despite the burning to engulf my entirety.

The tendril reached my eye and the rest of me and seeped and burned and electrified my bones, veins, muscles and entirety. I screamed myself raw, or at least tried.

Then the light hit me square in the chest and the white and black clashed and warred and tore me up in the middle.

#

I awoke to daylight and a face full of cobblestone. Tulley's streets were all asphalt and concrete.

I tore my face away from the ground. It was light out. I pushed myself against the worn bricks to sit on my ass. This hangover-like development was nothing short of bizarre. I stayed the night outside, exposed to the elements and unaware of just how I got here. Just what in the name of fuck happened that night?

Shadows that bloomed into the air and light shows from nowhere? It was a scene straight out of a nightmare that left more questions than answers and surprisingly nothing sore.

I remembered the pain and the panic, but felt nothing of it after.

My shadow dropped straight down with the sun up high. It was noon time, and the heat brought warmth to my cold bones. Even crazier was how I was smack dab in the middle of a small alley of a long row of brick houses and wood roofing. There was no such thing in the old city, not even in the oldest of our streets.

A teeny tiny voice at the back of my mind said it had a feeling we weren't in Tulley anymore, but the bigger part of common sense said there had to be an explanation.

Though I was sure I wouldn't like it.

Checking myself over, my phone was still here with the battery full… somehow. That couldn't have been more than thirty or so percent when I last checked, and there weren't any signal bars either. No missed calls too.

I called up mom, but the thing didn't connect. The internet was out as well.

Speaking of my family, it hurt to think of them worrying after what happened. But for now, figuring what, where, and when the fuck was more important. I had no means of communication, but at least my wallet was still with me, and the few bills I kept were still there together with all my cards. Even my passport—which had no new visas secretly stamped out. Nothing was taken. And that didn't compute—unless whoever took me didn't do it for the money.

I knelt down and put my bag on the ground before rummaging through all its pockets. My laptop, power banks, speakers, the few tools I kept, everything I always brought was there—even the loose roll of tissues I took from the toilets for the heck of it. I didn't lose anything except for my memories of how I got here. Which would've been preferred over the laptop really. It was just heavy as hell. Screw George and his budget pinching ass.

That mess last night, or I at least hoped it was just last night and not like a few damn days ago… I didn't want to imagine the shit mom was going through since I never arrived. If I were lucky, she'd just be angry I missed our night with the fam without calling, but if she called Nikita and the others… she'd know something big happened. Not that those idiots had something to do with this, I hoped.

Fuck.

Priorities, Tom. Kidnappings usually meant someone wanted something, and besides what I knew, there were only a few things I might be good for other than maybe a sex slave. Okay, maybe divulging some company secrets are in there, but I'm not _that_ high up the ladder. As far as I know.

I unbuttoned my shirt and touched myself all over, checking for any wounds and besides the few sweat patches on my shirt, there was nothing to find. No stolen kidneys or eyes or feeling weak from getting my blood drawn or something. Nothing.

My hair was a tangled mess and matted. Enough time had passed. I was in the middle of nowhere, and the only other place this looked like was Europe. Any kidnappers worth their fees wouldn't go through the hassle of kidnapping someone without doing anything of note, and I wasn't ugly but I wasn't super good looking enough to be mistaken for good material.

Okay, that last one may be a little flattering but so not the point right now. And besides, I doubt there'd be some sort of rich old lady who wants nothing more than some fresh young man with a cynical outlook on life to marry and spoil into a lavish life of luxury and nothing but sex all day every day.

Fantasies were great and all, but shit like that just doesn't magically appear. If it at all.

I placed my hand against the brick wall, the grit pressed into my palm with a sharp and genuine profile. I lightly elbowed the brick and got a satisfying thud and a little pain despite my sleeves; the little jagged cracks were hard like proper stone.

I stomped on the ground a few times and didn't find anything strange from how solid the pavement was. I jumped up and willed myself to fly—and landed on the ground a moment later. I slapped myself hard, and still nothing.

It was worth a try in case this was a dream. And it clearly wasn't.

I held my phone against the sunlight and tilted its screen to an angle. Light reflected off it with a myriad of colors. Physics was still working as expected and there were no super-duper sophisticated computer simulations I could think of that could properly recreate light diffraction within any simulations available to the public. Again, who knew how far technology had come or if aliens abducted me or I was maybe just hallucinating all of this while tied to a hospital bed.

My stomach growled.

I hung my head and walked on through the alley. I just hoped I wouldn't find myself in the middle of a tentacle people village or something.

The road twisted and curved then opened to a wider street lined with broken down stone walls and moss covered, well, everything. There were some rough cast iron streetlamps with clear glass that had fallen over and rusted in places at a regular internal and no one in sight. And the bricks were all uniform, the sort to have been baked in an oven and not just dried in the sun.

There was a small tower further down with a bell barely visible at the top and some fallen columns by the ground, and in the far-off distance was an even taller tower but that one looked more intact. The leaning tower of Pisa came to mind, but then the darned thing was standing up straight and had a pointy top. Pisa had a flat top.

With nothing else of note to see—because damn did this place hold some history, I turned back and went the other way.

The entire experience so far left just a few farfetched explanations built on very wishful thinking, and a whole lot of bullshit: one, I was under some medical condition that was making me hallucinate; two, I was dead and was now in some after life; three, I went to some parallel universe via time or something else; and four, the messed up kidnapping stint that placed me in some unrecognizable place without a discernable reason.

I read way too much science fiction and fantasy not to call a spade a spade, but damn was it fucked up anyway. How did time work here assuming it was elsewhere? Was I still on the same Earth just in a different kind of dimension? How was I breathing correctly if this indeed were somewhere else? Had Nikita already fired my ass for not bringing her her cheesecake? Was I actually still on the same Earth—and I hoped it was this one—and that this was just somewhere I couldn't recognized since the culture was so different? Meaning I had to have been brought here from where I came from maybe by boat or plane, which was doable with enough drugs…

I put down my bag and took off my jacket and rolled up my sleeves. There were no needle holes or anything I could identify. I pulled down my pants and checked my thighs. None here either. I took the selfie stick I had in my bad and rigged up my phone to take suggestive picture of a half naked me, which in context would make sense but if anyone saw they'd only see a pervert out in the open. There were no marks on my ass either.

And if I really were kept out of it with so much drugs, I doubt a dosage that could keep me out of it long enough would need reapplication multiple times.

Fuck. I got dressed up and deleted the panicked nudes I took. Out of necessity and fear. And not out of any other reason… okay maybe this last one looks a little sexy… but no. Not the time.

After that little episode, I kept my eyes pealed for anything that could hint at where I might be. The barren row of houses turned from aging stones to newer bricks, and that's when the noise of daily life wormed in. It was the incessant white noise of people living day to day, talking and doing stuff and all that. That much activity turned up noise, and it was the kind of noise our field guys were always on the lookout for when they were on tour.

I kept walking and soon enough saw laundry hung out to dry here and there, some open windows—some in wood, some in glass—on the higher floors, a few doors but all closed. Good news, the clothes were normal. It was the same t-shirt style with two arm holes and one for the head and one big one for the body. And either I was in the humanoid district or these were all there were. Or these were normal people.

Chancing upon an open window, a quick look in revealed a large lady—not that far off from normal—almost like some sort of gigantic man and just as muscular. She was dressed in a white apron and had a purplish grey dress with her hair done up in a ponytail. She was barking orders at some smaller women in the same clothes as her but with green dresses instead.

Some of those women had animal ears and tails—there was a recent thing on the net about wearable tails so this isn't that far off either—and they were bringing what I believe was food from somewhere to some other—okay, this was a restaurant. There were veggies and meat, the usual anyone would see at a diner, but the blockier woodwork spoke of less finesse—or maybe of budget cuts, and I couldn't recognize any specific dishes. Which didn't really say much because I wasn't too adventurous with my food.

If I could google shit, maybe I might be able to search for a similar recipe visualy and try and work out some region where it was usually served at and make an educated guess from there.

The large lady saw me and said something loud I didn't understand—it wasn't a tone or sound I could recognize. It wasn't Asian for sure, maybe Eastern Europe, or Latino, or African. Which left a huge ass margin, but not impossible. The lack of internet could just be from a mismatched carrier, but the lack of Wifi was more telling.

Still, I had a feeling I didn't want to know what the lady said. I pulled away from the window and continued on, eventually reaching a proper street where other people walked to and from and following the old style of dress the people from the restaurant had on.

But that's about it. Here, there were men and women both with armor pieces strapped to their bodies, some more animal people in skirts, pants, and even some that was for all intents and purposes the sort of bikini armor one might expect from games; it was a varied and anything goes sort of feel.

Okay, so I forgot to add virtual reality death game to the list of possibilities of where I ended up but I could forgive myself that. It didn't make me feel any better though since this and the dream in a coma thing were the worst situations I could be in. Honestly, even ending up in another time or world was better since that'd mean there was a better chance at coming back as opposed to being deathly sick or mentally incapacitated and needing outside care. Some very expensive outside care I or my family wouldn't be able to afford.

Stereotypical elves and dwarves and smaller people—hobbits? They all roamed and bartered and whatever else it was the people did in these, I guess medieval sorts of settings. There were more animal people too, which, I guess would be natural and not simulated through the use of toys. Of note though were the dark skinned women all in, for lack of a better term, lingerie and other near states of undress—it was a sight to take in and had I my priorities less spot on maybe I'd be turned on some more, but no, there were too many questions for me to enjoy how human-like these people—maybe creatures, all were.

Okay, so, that really only ticked off one of my choices, that being I was still on Earth. Assuming this was true.

But then, fuck.

I took a deep breath to steady myself, then sat down on the ground. I massaged the bridge of my nose and groaned out. Then groaned some more. Even seeing all this didn't actually give me a definite answer. What was true was not necessarily what was truth. And even with the genuineness of the experience I was having still did not hammer down a proper explanation.

Light was both a particle and a wave, but that shit was easy because the observer had the fucking luxury of being in a state of having the powert to observe the outcome instead of having to move within the fucking uncertainty.

I clenched my fists and hit the ground. The pain didn't do me any good and the frustration didn't go away either. I could—and would—grit my teeth and grumble all day and just be an all around shit, but none of that would change what I needed to fucking do.

So I screamed.

And screamed and screamed some more for all the shit I had to go through in god knew however long it took. I screamed for the shit that brought me here in the first place. I screamed for the pain of not being able to complain about my day like usual, or for being annoyed at my mom always pestering me to find a girl, or do something else besides my job and watch porn. I screamed for the little scratch I got from my tantrum that might turn out infected because of how stupid I was being.

Then something hit the side of my head.

It was a wooden bowl of some sort, and my temple stung. It came from the left and I saw the large lady from before leaning out of the window. She signed something rude my way, and I bowed my head in apology. Or at least hoped it worked?

She spat and went back to her building.

I took another deep breath and stood up. Screaming myself tired just now helped lessen the building… whatever. Anxiety, anger, frustration, whatever. Now, a common trope of those taken to other worlds was the language barrier and assuming—taking this with a pound of salt—that I really were transported to some setting as I was currently contemplating, then getting help wouldn't do me any proper good unless I can meet some magical NPC who'd lay down the plot for me.

That, or I already received the ability and I could talk without issue and maybe we just magically even shared the same language. But I didn't understand the big lady just, so that didn't died before it could walk.

The wider street was just ahead of me, where more people—I hoped they were people—were and help might be. But on second thought, stepping out into the open and looking nothing like the general populace was usually a bad idea. All it took was a stray word and a little panic to get a mob coming for blood during times of distress.

It was best I didn't risk it.

But then where did I go from here? I doubt I could get away with stealing food—again assuming with a boulder of salt that I was in a reality, simulated or not, where my biological functions mattered—from these people. I was someone born and raised in the city and a computer analyst dammit, I was paid to think, not hit or lift stuff. I didn't have any cheaty magic, nor anything that could be respectable called as a weapon in my bag unless I somehow sharpened the edges of my drinking flask maybe.

I could make my way through the back streets, but the alleyways weren't my friend either. It was only with luck that I hadn't run into any thieves so far—and if this really was that kind of setting then they were all but an inevitability. Hell, even if it wasn't that kind of setting any kinds of backstreets were dangerous too.

_Damned either way then._

I punched my fists together as hard as I could, and stepped forward into the unknown. Better the devil you know. At least here I'd probably see who'd stab me if any, and I could make a show of running, crying, and screaming too if it went down to that.

But something held my hand and pulled me back hard.

It was a pretty little redhead in a pony tail and grinning like a madwoman. She was in some skimpy blue and black outfit, and even if her grip was hard, it wasn't firm enough to keep me in place. She also barely had any muscle on her though the lines of her body, nubile and young as they were, had a sensuality to them I couldn't deny. That was the muscle tone of someone who used their body well and knew how to use it, the physique of a proper athlete.

She was bad news.

"!" she said something I didn't understand.

And a blonde kid climbed out of the window the big lady came from earlier. He was dressed in purple.

I whipped my hand away from hers and ran.

But something held my hips back and robbed the ground from my feet. The little blonde kid somehow caught up and was holding me aloft like a stuffed bear.

I twisted hard with my elbow in the lead and hit him across the nose. But the guy took it like a champ. He smiled.

A swift kick caught him in the knee, then another to the nards. I reached out with my hand to claw out his eyes but the guy avoided everything I did like a tiny white Mike fucking Tyson. Not even sweeping with my arms could I catch even a whiff of him, so I flailed and screamed and struggled and just made it all kinds of hard with all my strength to take me away, and besides, all this panicked struggling was universal for asking for help.

And yet the few passersby met my eyes, and none moved to my aid.

Until a blonde girl dressed in white landed in front of me from nowhere. This was probably the moment I'd be saved and taken to some sort of plot relevant exposition sce—


	2. Volume 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Thomas

When I came to, I was riding piggy back on someone small.

I kept my eyes closed to feign still being out of it. But whoever was carrying me was strong enough that they didn't wobble as they walked. It was the back of a kid, maybe a girl.

Maybe even the bitch who knocked me out earlier.

My hands were dangling to the sides, and my feet were held up by just as tiny arms. I was short and stocky, and all that grown-ass man was cradled by someone around half my body's width. It was soft and supple and strong, not hard in any way except where their bones poked out.

If it really were the girl from earlier, then I was sure to feel a bit more softness where my arms draped over the front. But it was a sheer drop over the top. My heart was stammering away, but they didn't take off my suit. With hope, the thumping wouldn't carry over to the person carrying me.

Bright warm light shone through my eyelids, and the sounds of the bustling city—maybe village—still reached us. It was still day so I hadn't been out for too long, and we weren't that far away from the busier districts either. With hope, I might be able to get away if I can distract them somehow.

They also didn't take my bag away, and it was also good how I wasn't tied up or had a bag over my head. They weren't too wary, and didn't feel the need to disorient me. Maybe, they also didn't mean any harm. For now, at least.

But who could tell with these unhinged sorts.

It was wishful thinking to assume I could negotiate from such a disadvantaged position. And besides, deciding to kidnap someone out of the blue like that—and out in the open too of all things—didn't paint a good first impression for my captors.

"You can stop pretending now," a lady said.

Someone pinched my cheeks, lightly and just enough to annoy.

I cracked open my eyes. It was the same redhead from before.

"Welcome back," she said, and gave my head a few pats. Soft and gentle, more to reassure, more likely to mock.

Her lackeys were around her, with one new person joining the entourage. The blonde kid in purple was carrying me, then the blonde bitch who knocked me out was walking to my left, the new lady had long light green hair and was to my right. The three girls were all much taller than the kid, and yet he didn't seem to strain at all. I couldn't see what he looked like though, but from the lack of worry from the three around us, they had all the confidence in the world I wouldn't be able to do anything.

"Finn here"—she pointed at the kid carrying me—"said you've got spirit."

I narrowed my eyes at her. I understood her. That much was clear. But to have her be the one to say so instead of this Finn, if that was his real name, meant he either: had to defer to her for all the talking, he didn't understand the language, or just didn't want to say anything. It was clear she was the leader though. Still all this was just another reminder of the unnatural strength he displayed before.

Which brought up the parallel universe and virtual reality death game theories forward, but yeah. A simulation indistinguishable from reality might as well be reality. Ugh, fuck this metaphysics crap.

A small mercy though was how Finn didn't smell like a wet rag or something worse, which meant they either didn't sweat much here from the climate, since I wasn't too hot even being in a suit, or the hygiene was better—meaning a cleaner culture or good plumbing. His hair wasn't greasy either. All good signs, just with bad timing.

Anyone in the same situation earlier would've freaked out with whatever the hell was happening and just as confused. Why the hell didn't anyone help? How come I was in the mercy of this weird ass lady? Why the hell was I getting carried by a dude two-thirds my size? Was I just hallucinating it all? Was I dreaming? Did I leave the stove off in my apartment that morning?

Red head touched my nose. "Don't feel too bad about it, he's plenty strong this one."

I glared at her.

"You're not very good at looking mean, you know." She snickered. "You're not in the position for it either." This bitch was totally mocking me. It reminded me of Laura. But where Laura was a scathing prick, this one was more abrasive.

She wasn't wrong though, but to acknowledge it would be to submit. And I wasn't sure what that would imply. Would cooperation be better? Or would I fare better if I fought? Too many questions, and too few clues to formulate any smart guesses with. Finn wasn't dragging me around, and the redhead was making small talk. More good signs, but then, carrot and stick.

It could just as easily be a good cop bad cop thing, but I'll have to see.

We moved from an open courtyard to narrower streets. The stones were lighter in color. Newer? We passed a shirtless man scrubbing away at the walls with a crude brush. He pressed himself to the wall and bowed at our group as we passed.

More people with different ears and tails and heights passed by, all of them making way for us.

Perhaps it wasn't how the people earlier didn't care but that they couldn't. Everyone was avoiding our group, some staring openly, some turning their faces away. And yet none of them looked on with anger. Resignation? Fear? Deference? Maybe respect? There were a few hidden smiles, some unsure, but never any outright hatred.

Shit. I had no guarantee on anything and had everything to lose. I was at their mercy and redhead knew that much. I wasn't going to get any help at all even if I got away, and the next one who could understand me might take a different approach—or do nothing at all.

Too many maybes floated up in the air, but not enough to outweigh the cons of trying to break away. I swallowed my pride.

Redhead raised a brow my way.

"Why did you take me?" I said.

She smiled. "The name's Loki mind you, and you'd do yourself a favor introducing yourself to me first."

That's when a trio of ladies sent flirtatious winks my—rather, Finn's way and he waved back. The trio half-pressed themselves closer to the wall, just enough to make space, but also enough to still brush against the blond.

Wait. I knew a face that wanted a piece of that ass, and that just now struck an unpleasant chord. Finn was crazy strong, but, that. That was not normal in a more tangible form. Besides, you'd think people would be more alarmed seeing a grown ass man draped over a kid's shoulders without a care in the world. But the more unsettling thought was how this could be a normal occurrence for this lot.

The lady who introduced herself as Loki smiled with an aside, and the green haired lady with the pointy ears, now that I got a better look at her, rolled her eyes. The blonde who knocked me out couldn't care less.

After the trio came a line of five, two men and three women, the former both in plate armor with one carrying a dull sword and shield and the other a spear. The women had one dressed in robes like our elf, another darker skinned one wearing what looked like a bandeau and sari with feathers as decorations, and a kid with a sizeable chest despite her height and in a white cloak with a comically huge backpack.

There was that lingering thought that said it had an answer, but that way laid madness. "Why did you take me, Loki?"

Loki looked back after waving to some large lady dressed in a maid outfit—it was the same one I saw before. And by large I meant she could deadlift a car and still dance a jig.

"I'll admit," Loki said. "You've got balls to try and squeeze something out first." She hummed. "Fine. You,"—she booped me on the nose—"my friend, are in for a big surprise."

Well that wasn't ominous at all. But what she really meant was she wasn't going to let me go. Cold wrapped around my heart, but if I were going down anyway, then I might as well make it worth my while. "And I suppose here's the part where you tell me I'm some special person?"

Loki started laughing at that, eventually breaking into a sort of cackle like a typical movie villain. Finn turned his head over to her and frowned, just like the other two girls with us. The blonde girl looked at her like she was looking at a bug, while the elf had a more resigned expression—the same one Vito usually wore whenever Nikita found some crazy new feature or thought of something interesting but too expensive to implement.

Loki swung her arms about with a swagger before grabbing my face with both hands. "Looks like you're finally getting with the program!" Then she frowned. "Uh, that idiom makes sense to you, yes?"

"Uhh, yes?"

Loki let me go and sighed. "Because where you came from might not have developed organized entertainment?"

That drew a blank, and it must've shown on my face. I couldn't even begin to… That question just blew over whatever semblance of context I'd already built up. The only reason she'd ask that was if she knew something common but no one else did. Was she the only person here she knew who spoke the same English I was speaking—for it seemed to be plain old English, given we'd understood each other enough with the few words we exchanged.

The only thing I could say was, "I don't understand."

Loki hummed along. "Really, with all this evidence it should already point towards a conclusion now, umm?..." She gestured with her hand.

"Thomas," I supplied.

"Right, Thomas." She cleared her throat. "You can run away from it, but you'll have to face the music soon enough." She gave me a look.

"Yes, I also know that idiom." Of course. Priorities.

She nodded, satisfied. The wording of that statement more than told me what I'd been trying to find out since earlier, and for her to implied such meant she was either aware of what happened to me specifically, or of this kind of occurrence and that there were others. However, that was just confirmation bias on my end, she could just as easily mean something else entirely.

Loki pushed her cheek close to mine, literally rubbing it in. "And where else have you heard the name Loki before?"

It was all so unbearably human, from the way she talked to the way she moved. It wasn't dissonant or clunky or unnatural, with every fiber of me unable to deny that everything I'd experienced so far was, unfortunately, true.

But that name was another big drop. Was it some meaningful epitaph? Maybe an actual name? Maybe it was just in honor of the character? Eitherway, she was fishing for something. Something that would surprise me, but how? I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I'd read about a Loki from myth and another from a pretty good movie seri—"

Loki grabbed my face with both hands. "They made a movie of me?" She had on the biggest grin.

Her hands were warm and gritty and a little damp with sweat. "Err, the Loki there is a dude with a slight build and has a lot of angst with his brother?"

She shrugged. "Two out of three is still pretty good."

"So you aren't a dude?" But she didn't deny she was a god. And frankly, I wouldn't either given the chance.

She slapped the sides of her chest and pushed them together. "I have feelings too you know?!"

I massaged the bridge of my nose. This whipping back and forth between dicking around and spouting cryptic crap was starting to grate on my patience. I met the eyes of the elf, and she gave me a nod and a cringey sort of smile.

But fine, I was willing to play ball. She held the cards, and I heard it loud and clear. And the only way I was going to get some semblance of an explanation of the shitshow I'd been in so far was to play along. "Fine, I give."

Loki laughed like the madman of myth, except she was a she, and thankfully cuter than I could ever imagine the giant born trickster god. Goddess.

"Well?" She said with the biggest smile.

I sighed. "So, where am I?"

Loki crossed her arms and clicked her tongue. "That wasn't the question I was leading you to," she said. "Dude, why'd you have to ruin the build-up? I was already playing it up and all that…"

"What the hell are you going on about? We were literally just talking about vague crap on language and you being named Loki and something about me not from being around here?"

She raised a finger and was about to say something, but closed her mouth and decided against it. Instead she ran her hand down her face. "I was hoping you'd be smarter…"

"Well that's just rude, Loki. What, you wanted me to ask something outright crazy like '_oh goddess Loki did I somehow end up in a parallel dimension or something_?" I rolled my eyes. "It's too crazy as a first question, and damn would that be a—"

"Yes," Loki said while staring straight into my eyes. "Yes you are indeed in a parallel dimension. Or plane. Or whatever it is you wanna call it, really, there's no one accepted term for it." She kicked a nearby potted plant. "And you just had to ruin the reveal."

It took a few seconds to sink in, and I guess that should've fucked me up some more, but to have some sort of confirmation that I wasn't wasting away in a hospital bed was more comforting than the fact I'd apparently just confirmed the existence of parallel worlds, then of technology so advanced it could be used to transport someone to said parallel world—maybe magic. _Hopefully_, magic. And gods if Loki really is to be believed with what she was implying, but meh. I'd already done the mental gymnastics for it. And I was way more relieved I didn't have a crazy ass medical bill waiting for me back home. A _growing_ crazy ass medical bill, I might add.

"I'd admit that's pretty crazy—"

"Pretty?!" Loki practically dripped with digust. "You call ending up in a parallel world as _pretty crazy_?!"

I scratched my cheek. "Okay, _plenty_ crazy? I mean, I wasn't expecting it, but that's a happier outcome than I was dreading, all things considered."

She shook her head. "What sort of shit were you thinking that _this_ is actually a good outcome?!"

I raised a finger. "For one, I'm not dead."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, that's fair."

I raised another. "I'm not hallucinating—if I assume you to be telling the truth and aren't just a figment of my imagination."

She raised her brow. "But you can't be sure if this really isn't a hallucination, yeah?"

I hummed. "True, but then you wouldn't bother looking so offended when I called this shitshow of a situation as just pretty crazy."

She nodded again. "True."

I raised a third finger. "And lastly, you confirmed—and I will take this as truth—that I am not strapped down to a hospital bed and wracking up bills I would never be able to pay for, maybe even endagering the financial security of the people I care for with said debt since I know they'd help me with it whether I want them to or not."

At that her smile broke. "What, you guys don't have universal health care yet? But aren't you already within a more forward part in your civilization's lifetime? You're wearing a suit and carrying a laptop, so you can't be _that_ backward, right?"

I didn't know how to break it out to someone who could say something so optimistic.

She gestured something to Finn, who then let me down to stand on my own two legs. My feet touched the ground after maybe a few minutes or hours, and though a little shaky, my balance wasn't shot. It felt good to feel this new world—but with it came its own doubts. How was time moving along with my own world? How the hell was I breathing the same air? How the hell did parallel dimensions even work? Was there a version of me here?

But then Loki gave me a hug.

And me, not that used to physical affection from strangers couldn't figure out where to place my arms or how to just, not react wrong to what was happening. "Uhh, Loki?"

"It must've been hard," she said.

"What? The whole shifting realities thing?"

She stepped on my foot. "Not that you idiot, I meant the uncertainty of that last one you said."

Ah, she meant the hospital bills. I dropped my arms to my sides. "Yeah, and it would've been easier if I just died." Because then my insurance would've taken care of it—if they found my body.

She took a deep breath before pulling away.

"Thomas," Loki said. "Join my family."

"Excuse me?"

She face palmed.

#

Loki did not appreciate the dissonance between our comedic timings, but that was more her fault. And maybe it was a little fun to ruin her moments. Just maybe.

A good thing though is how now I had sort of chosen to go with them. After all, given that this was supposedly a parallel world, I didn't have anywhere to go, and yes, they did take me against my will, but for now cooperation was still better. I didn't stand a chance against getting away from Finn, and that was without including the elf called Riveria and the girl called Aiz into the equation. That's not to say anything about me not knowing the language, and Loki was only able to understand me because she was a goddess according to her. Supposedly.

The matter for how I got here was put on hold in the mean time so she could claim her stake on me. Besides protecting me from the influence of others—which remained to be seen whether good or bad—joining her family meant I would receive her grace. And given I came from another world, that was bound to get interesting. At least that way I'd have the beginnings of the same thing that granted Finn and the others their power and maybe be able to better protect myself. Which meant I'd get my own magic. Probably. Hopefully. Loki said it wasn't guaranteed, but whatever, the day had been crazy enough. I needed this little dollop of optimism.

Besides, there was comfort in knowing I was powerless to control my fate right now and could only go along for the ride. The earlier exchange with Finn said as much. And if I could get some sort of power, no matter what sort, some was still better than none.

They lead me towards their home. A literal castle, as Loki put it. And well, it really was a goshdarn castle. Or maybe a keep? I wasn't sure on the terminology. They had it in one end of the circular city called Orario and fortified with walls, but it looked more like the demon lord's residence than somewhere one might get a quest from the king to save the world from. The stones were a vibrant fiery red, and the walls were jagged and twisted. It looked like a flame had frozen over and someone slapped a door and windows on it and called it a day.

We went through the thick wooden gate, opened by more of Loki's family, then through a garden filled with trees, a small courtyard with benches that even had similar lamps to the ruins I'd seen before.

We entered the main hall through another set of doors, and thankfully, the castle was a lot more welcoming inside with pastel blues and greens filling the first floor.

Chairs and tables were in every other corner with sofas and bookshelves taking center stage in some of the bigger spaces. It was a living room with a lot of people doing said living in mind, with big open windows letting in a lot of light that made the carpet really stand out with its swirling designs. There were also several potted plants on the floor and hung against the walls, giving the place a homely and refreshing image.

They even had a big chandelier in the middle of the entrance hall, and… a painting of Loki and Finn on the ceiling in the hall after that. She was floating on a cloud with her finger stretched out and touching Finn's own outstretched finger like in the Sistine chapel.

This place had the trappings of a five star hotel—or the house of a very very eccentric rich guy. And… it had the tell tale cold of airconditioning to. But I couldn't see any vents or hear anything, although I did see a few things glowing with some floating stones held within them. It didn't take a genius to figure out those were most likely some sort of technology, whether magical or not though remained to be seen. I was hoping for magic though.

"Welcome to your new home," Loki said. "I'll introduce you to everyone later and get you a room somewhere, but first I'll give you my blessing."

I was looking around and taking it all in. "Those are the levels thing?"

"Yeah," she said. "Up we go. My room's on an upper floor."

She led me up a flight of stairs lined with a dark blue carpet, soft and supple and smooth, while the stone beneath was a polished cool grey. The hand holds were done with intricate wood carvings like Celtic knots, which was a little weird since Loki was part of the Norse pantheon. We passed the second floor and went straight up for the third, and the hall was lined with doors every three or so meters with what could only be called lamps exuding a white light from a floating crystal between each.

I pointed at the thing. "And I suppose that's a sample of magic? The crystal is probably the source while that bracket thing around it with glowing writing is what's consuming the mana and executing said magic?"

Loki smiled. "Close, but not complete. And you're really enjoying this, eh?" She hummed in approval.

I shrugged. "You can only have your worldview upturned so many times in a day and still be surprised." Bile rose up but I managed to swallow it in time. Yes, I wasn't in a hospital bed. But I still had a life I'd left behind.

We continued towards the end of the hall and turned left to a double door with grander looking lamps beside it. In front was a balcony overlooking the courtyard of the property where her other followers could be seen going about their daily lives. There was a sofa hidden from the sunlight by the awning with some well-worn cushions and a small side table with a couple of books on them.

Looking out, there was Finn holding a spear and I guess instructing a few others, showing them some swings and stabs. We were high enough to get a good view but not so high that people's faces blurred out of detail.

"So what is it that you and your children do anyway?" What a strange thing to call your followers though, but I guess it goes with the family thing. Cult?

"We basically retrieve those stones." She pointed at one of the lights. "You'll see soon enough."

She opened the double doors and led me inside to a large room. There was a four poster bed inside with deep blue covers, and to the left of it was an ornate dresser and gilded too The room also had a shelf full of plushies of different animal and non-animal figures. And like a shrine, there was a centerpiece of a glass case with… panties?

"I'm not even gonna ask."

"I'm not letting you sniff them," she said with a fire behind those fox eyes.

"You went full pervert, Loki."

"Hush you," she said. "Now put your bag down somewhere and let's get this over with."

I did as told. Had this been back on Earth, was this place also called Earth? Whatever. Getting told what to do by a pretty lady would've been a sexy development. But Loki just looked okay, and this was anything but the time for innuendo.

She opened her bedside drawer and took out a knife. "Now strip."

"Uhh, are you about to murder me or something?" She had a glass case full of panties, and a castle of super powered freaks. Loki, I failed to realize, might really have been the stereotypical stranger danger warnings had been about.

"What, this?" She scoffed. "This is for me."

"Aaand that just went over my head."

"I'm a god, remember." Loki flipped the knife over and pricked her finger. "I need my ichor to bless you with." And sure enough, something other than red poked out of her pointer, it was like a shimmer of gold or maybe a drop of clear glass.

That settled my doubts on Loki being anything remotely human.

The goddess put down the knife and sat on her bed, then patted the spot next to her. "Come on, Tom. I can't bless you if you don't show me some skin."

I set down my bag "You do this often?"

She waggled her brows. "Get men to strip in my room?"

I stared at her, then turned back to finish taking off my clothes.

"I'm kidding." She stuck a little pink tongue out. "Yeah, a lot of my younger children still get skittish."

Shirtless and a little conscious of my showing tummy, I faced her. The last time I did something like this, the room was darker and had a jacuzzi in the same place. My heart was beating just as fast though, but most likely from the sheer anxiety of what to expect. I took a deep breath before saying, "You sure don't look like you've had a lot yet."

A pillow hit my face. "Look at you cracking jokes."

I sat on the bed, and no, it wasn't only because of what this meant that I wasn't that sure. She smelled nice. Like lavenders and fresh grass, and a little bit of something I couldn't place but just so distinctly, feminine. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Err, what happens next?"

Loki cradled my face with the hand that didn't have a bleeding finger. And I was also made painfully aware of how soft her skin was against mine. Her room was cool, and the hairs on my arms and chest stood taller from the exposure.

"Don't worry," Loki said, "I'll be sure to take _good_ care of you."

Warmth flooded my cheeks. How the hell did she bless people anyway?

Then from my cheek, a finger traced over to my lips.

My breath caught.

Loki pinched my nose. "Teasing you works too well," she said with a foxy grin.

"I am so confused right now." But my pants knew their priorities well enough.

Loki's eyes trailed down.

What did anyone say in this situation anyway? "Yes, it is indeed what it looks like."

She smirked. "You'll need to take me out to dinner first, at the very least."

I wouldn't say the prospect hadn't crossed my mind once or twice. But that was a mess of complications I didn't want to have, much less initiate with the person who instigated my kidnapping. "I have this personal rule to never date people I work with?"

She smiled coyly. "Oh, but we'll be family soon enough."

That just killed the mood. "Yeah, no. Not sexy."

Loki stuck her tongue out. "Too much?"

I scrunched my nose. "Yeah, kinda went over the top." Even if I wasn't exactly what one might consider hot, definitely a bit over the regular weight though so I appreciated the flirting anyway. But still, it was… weird. I guess this is what Finn and the others regularly went through for them to be giving her those kinds of looks earlier.

She twirled her finger while pointing down. "Lay on the bed face down, and I'll brand your back."

"Really? On the back? Like some sort of mafia tatoo?"

"That's actually not far off. I could also do it elsewhere, but then I'd have to write either really small or like spill over everywhere else. I could do your front if you like? But if it gets any longer then…"

She winked.

I didn't want a magical tatoo anywhere down there. It only _sounded_ cool the first few times. "The back it is, then."

Her sheets were cool against my chest. And they smelled just like her. What a time it was to be alive and to have gone through the series of events that I just went through. I got attacked by some weird cloud thing, then pierced by a ray of light, found myself in another world, and then met a literal god. Assumed to be a god, that is, despite everything. I hadn't really seen anything too godlike just yet. Then again, what exactly did that mean?

Loki's dainty finger caressed my spine from the nape of my neck down and carved a trail of warmth.

#

I woke up tied to a chair.

Loki sat across me on a large wooden desk. She wasn't smiling. Flanking her were some wary faces, Finn, Aiz, and Riveria included, plus a few more others I hadn't met yet. They all faced against me, one side versus all of my lonesone.

I looked around, no one else was in the room.

Also, my chair was floating from the ground. And I also apparently had chains surrounding my entire body too.

Something big happened while I was out.

"Uhh, Loki I'm not really into bondage play. Tried it once, it wasn't for me."

"Thomas," Loki said. Gone was the ever playful tone. "What do you remember last before you got here?"

All this precaution was really starting to freak me out. My palms were damp. And the chains… didn't even feel like they were there. I strained against my restraints—and heard them yawn.

I stopped.

Then my chair fell to the ground just as the eight people in front of me, not including Loki, all finished pulling out weapons with their pointy ends towards me. The air was thick with tension. The slightest wrong move or word could have all of them attack me.

…but why?

"Loki," I said, "what the fuck happened while I was out?"

Loki's stern visage did not waver. "Answer the question, Tom."

I gritted my teeth, and somehow, I felt something in me rise. Something from deep below, somewhere down in my belly but somehow deeper than anything I'd ever felt. And with it came a terrible heat, the sort that lashed and lapped and screamed to be let loose in a rampage.

Then cold bit at my fingers. And it… hurt? I looked down and saw ice forming on my nails and fingertips.

The eight drew closer to Loki. Riveria raised her staff and Aiz brandished her sword. A dwarf and a guy with pointy grey ears both had large shields with them, while two dark-skinned women both carried large knives. Another elf was at the very back and hiding, and Finn had a short sword—or was it a big knife?

At that the heat—rage—left, and the ice receded.

The wariness was all so telling. I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. Nikita always said I had a tendency to panic whenever something unexpected came my way, but really, the answer was already looking me straight in the eyes. I loosened my shoulders that had been tensed all this while. I relaxed my body and let myself go limp. And in response the chains binding me had slackened to the point of sagging the tiniest bit. Their caution and jumpinesse more than said enough, and their fear, so clear to see.

I took another deep breath and felt a calm I never expected. I pursed my lips. "Loki, what happened to me?"

Her subordinates—her children, were protecting her from me. "Please, just answer the question, Tom."

Finn showed me my place without a worry earlier, and Aiz knocked me out with a single punch, so why the caution now? Was I something to be feared then? "You mean before you took me to your home?"

"Was that the first thing you remember?" Loki said.

"If you were planning to kill me you wouldn't bother tying me up in the first place. So can we please clarify the question first?"

Loki shook her head. "This has been the craziest day of my stay here so far."

I stared at her. "_Oh gee_, and how do you think its been for me huh? I just wake up in the middle of some backasswards—"

One of the dark-skinned girls, the one with the shorter hair giggled.

"Did she just react to what I said?"

"Tiona!" the other dark-skinned girl scolded.

"Huh, weird name."

"Sorry, Tione, but what he said was funny," I guess Tiona said.

Loki face palmed. "You weren't supposed to let him know you could understand him."

And somehow, the tension just dissolved. But I was still confused. "Loki, what in the name of ever-loving fuck just happened?"

Tiona burst out laughing.

Finn sighed.

"Holy shit, that blessing thing made me able to understand the language!" This was some standard isekai fanfare.

"At least he has some balls to talk shit to a goddess to her face." The guy with the animal ears said.

"Don't we all talk shit to Loki though?" the dwarf added with a frown.

"Our goddess isn't exactly a paragon of virtue," Riveria said.

"Okay!" I said out loud.

They all turned to me with their weapons' all turned with the busy ends facing my way. That got everyone's attention.

"Seriously, why the hell am I tied up?"

Loki groaned. "Can we just finish up with the q and a first? Look, I'm your goddess now okay so you're supposed to do what I say."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "You can't tell me what to do."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, and Tiona put in a few chuckles.

"Come on Tom," Loki said, "just work with me here?"

I rolled my eyes.

"He really does sound like Loki," the dwarf said.

"Unfortunately," Finn said.

So after a few more clarifications I told them the story of before I woke up in Orario. The thing with the black cloud, how it looked and felt, then the white light and the smell of rain, even the part before that with time and space seeming to stand still. I didn't bother telling them about my work for the first part of that day, though it did call to mind the pain I'd been avoiding all this while. Was my family worrying themselves sick over me? Was time still passing? I couldn't do anything right now, and as much as I wanted to say that my helplessness should allow me to set aside that problem, I couldn't.

The story then went full circle when I included the parts about how Loki found me, Finn caught me, and Aiz knocked me out. By the time I finished my story, the others hounded me with an avalanch of questions:

What did it feel like when the black thing touched me? Was there any of it left on my body? Did it leave any traces? Did the light burn anything from my stuff? What was a cross walk? Why was my chair floating earlier? Did ice really appear on my fingertips just now?

So many questions and so few answers. It went on so long that I got to know everyone's names, and at the end of it all, no one else raised their hands anymore. "Okay I answered all your questions, so now can someone please explain why I was tied up?"

Everyone looked to Loki.

"You all do get that that's as freaky as it gets, right? All this huddling up without telling me anything.

"Ugh." Loki passed a piece of paper to Aiz who walked up to me. "I'm trusting you with this, alright?"

"A piece of paper? What, like some sort of magical contract?" It sorta goes in line with the whole blessing I guess.

Aiz tilted her head at that and frowned the slightest bit.

Loki shook her head. "No, Tom, it's your status."

"Which is?"

She rolled her eyes.

"I swear they both act so alike," Gareth added.

"It's where your stats like strength and crap are."

"Wait… like a Dungeons and Dragons character sheet?"

She nodded.

Finn had a puzzled look. "Didn't you say there wasn't any magic from your world?"

Aiz drew the paper closer, and sure enough, there it was.

###

**Thomas Sedley**

Level 1

Strength I 0

Agility I 0

Endurance I 0

Dexterity I 0

Magic I 0

Black I

Einharjar I

Spark I

**Magic**

_Madness - _Enfeebles, maddens, and corrodes targets.

_Muninn - _Two-way communication with a patron

_Wonder - _Grants flight

_Cure - _Heals wounds and damage but does not restore stamina.

_Water - _Creates a swirling barrier of water that rends.

_Blizzard - _Shoots a jagged bullet of ice that shatters.

_Thunder - _Shoots a piercing bolt of electricity that expands.

**Skill**

Messenger - Automatically translates written and verbal information to some understandable form to the wielder.

Berserker - Heavily increases all abilities when near death.x

Arcana - Unlocks the very depths of Magic.

###

"Are you kidding, this is some analog crap!" But then came a quick. "Holy fuck I have magic!"

Loki held her hands together and just stared while the others tightened their grips on their weapons.

"You guys are overreacting." I looked closer at the part called Magic. "Huh, that explains the ice earlier, and what the hell is this madness stuff. Sounds ominous. But dude, flight? That explains… wait shit I can fly!"

"Yeah," Loki said. "You can fly."

"Fuck yeah." I mean sure, there was some standard fare like Cure, and Water… seriously, who named this crap, and Thunder—well more like lightning, but Final Fantasy spells weren't really hailed for their accuracy. Whatever sounded cool trumped. "Not bad for level one?"

Loki hunched over and refused to meet my eyes. "Too good actually."

But all I heard was, "Hell, fucking, yeah. I'd go for a high five right now but, yeah."

"Thomas," Riveria said, "this is actually rather dire."

"How can being able to fly not be a good thing? It came from Loki herself, I came from far far away from here, of course things would be different."

At that Loki stood up. "No Tom, listen. And listen well. The falna of the gods pulls out the story from people's souls. And you, from a world without magic or grand feats or heroism and living a normal life with a nine to five job, cannot have done anything to deserve all this!"

"That was pretty mean to say, I mean it's not like I'd lived my life without accomplishing anything… okay, sure, nothing worth writing home about. Fine." I raised a brow. "But weren't you the one all excited about what would happen with me?"

Loki let out some annoyed goddess sounds. "No no no, I was curious on how you'd grow! Legends don't just pop out of the ground like mushrooms! They start with little deeds and snowball into stories!"

She walked up to me, and the others moved to stop her but she broke away from all of them. "You _didn't_ have a story, Tom. _I_ didn't pull anything out of you, but instead, something sprang out from nothing."

Loki shook her head.

"It goes against the very rules of the blessing we gods devised."

"So… there aren't any others like me, is what you're saying?"

She nodded.

I shrugged. "When life gives you lemons—"

"Humans cultivated lemons from some other parent fruit, lemons don't really exist."

"Really? That's cool."

"No, Tom. Not cool. You were made is what I was saying!"

"Made amazing?"

She clutched her head and screamed something shrill. The others though couldn't hide their amusement. "You should be freaking out or something!"

"Oh, don't worry," I said, "I'm barely holding together." I would've rested my chin against my hand but I was still tied up. "I'm just letting it all go over my head for now so I can try and process this bit by bit later. Give it a few more hours and I'll be a squabling mess. Really, if this looks like well-adjusted then that's just my please-make-the-CEO-stop-talking-already face."

Given how she'd already dropped the bombshell that was apparently some soul hijacking hoohah that granted me some sort of legend out of nothing or something, she went on to further give her own theories of how I came here. From some god sending me to some freak occurrence of the stars somehow aligning and causing a rift from the the Worldline Boundaries. She even explained a bit on her own brand of omniscience which allowed her to learn of the things I knew but was currently locked out to her since she was in her mortal form.

Turns out all incarnated gods here in Orario had the ideal standard for biological hardware. Immortal, never getting sick or tired—but can stil get intoxicated—bodies with perfect eidetic memory and nigh limitless stamina. Basically they were all hedonists just out for a jig, and they were playing with mortal lives and trying to unlock the secrets of the Dungeon.

It was a familiar trope, somewhat, and the falna was devised to allow mortals to embody the power of legends, hence why they were so involved with people's pasts and experiences and aspirations.

And it was also why my status—from the very start—looked like something straight out of a new game plus.

What in the name of fuck happened to me between my world and waking up here? There was also the how the hell did I even get here in the first place since messing with the Boundaries was something not even the gods in their true forms ever dared to attempt. It was all too much to take in and process and unpack then somehow piece together to form something with.

Tired, confused, in pain, and afraid. So many things went through my head in the span of a second, but all that was clear right now, was that I had nothing to go with. No leads. No special things that could help me find my way back. Not even any previous legends of travellers from other dimensions since the gods kept a tight lid on that can of worms.

I was so lost in more ways than one, so I left it all to future Thomas for now.

Somewhere along the discussion, they all decided I wasn't a threat anymore, if at all. Lefiya and Riveria sat on the cushions by the window of Finn's study. Aiz stood facing the red sky painted by the setting sun. Bete leaned against the bookshelves, while Gareth sat in the chair to Finn's left with Loki taking the right. Tione, was leaning against Finn's desk and practically clinging onto everything he said, and Tiona was sprawled out on the floor.

The room was silent. It had been silent for a good few minutes already since Loki and I finished our back and forth.

There wasn't anything to say left—and the plan earlier of breaking out of their clutches didn't seem as enticing anymore. Yes, I had magic now. No, I still didn't know how to use them. But even if I did figure it out, where would I even start?

So really, the only question that needed to be asked was, "What happens now?"

Loki met my eyes and looked away. "I really don't know. I went out looking for a toy and got something I didn't even think possible."

Somehow, the news of her not being as omniscient as she made herself to be was about as welcome as a cool breeze on a hot day. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"None of this is funny," she said with a frown.

"Someone who called herself a goddess just admitted she apparently didn't have her shit as together as she thought." I shrugged. "Sounds pretty funny to me."

"He's got you there," Gareth added.


	3. Volume 1 Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Thomas

That night, I found myself in the same bar where it all started.

"Drink up! Drink up!" Loki was standing on one of the tables and already rousing the rest of the family to a rabble.

Elves and Amazons, the dark-skinned women that is, alike raised their tankards and talked and laughed, while dwarves and beastkin and humans sang and danced and ate and drank.

It was a celebration for coming back alive from the hell of the fiftieth floor, the horrors they'd seen, the riches they'd brought, and the comfort of seeing another day with the people they'd come to know and love.

I was part of it, in some sense, but I barely knew anyone here—even had a few of them point their weapons at me just a few minutes ago. Complicated didn't begin to describe what I felt. Still, family was family, whether back home or here.

The warm lights of the bar-tavern-inn-place-thing brought the best out of the rich hues of the dense wood of the chairs and tables. It was cool too where I expected it to be warmer—the work of more of those discrete airconditioning units of pure magic. Everything I saw was all so plain in the day, but at night, the floor sparkled and shined like a river of onyx. This was the sort of place people would have killed for just to enter back in Tulley.

What I'd give to eat here with mom.

Dad wasn't really the sort to like fancy places like these, and the twins were good as long as they had either pizza or fried chicken. Nikita though, might've taken her boyfriend here for a date, and Vito, well, that guy wouldn't go here unless I or Nikita dragged him over. Laura… well, that was another matter.

I was sat by the counter's corner so I didn't have my back facing the rest of them. Not out of wariness but to not be rude. Mama Mia—seriously, what sort of parent would name their kid that, or was it her own decision—anyway, she was the one who threw me off my funk before with the wooden bowl. It was rude, but not uncalled for. I was bothering her business, her response was fair.

I took a long and deep drink from my mug.

It was root beer and better than any I'd ever had back home. The fizz was bubbly but smooth with all the tingle and none of the sting, it was sweet but not so sweet that it ached when it hit the teeth, and it was just cold enough to keep the fizz from escaping too fast and sooth the throat but not too cold as to make the gums twinge or the tongue jerk back. It was a feast all on its own and the most expensive drink on the menu—easily worth its price.

But it didn't end there.

The pottage I was nursing was a wonderful medley of beef, potatoes, tomatoes, and ginger boiled half to oblivion and with a complex hint of garlic, maybe onions, definitely a little butter, and lots and lots of peppers. It was hot and hearty and full and the vast flavor complimented well against the light tones of my drink.

A meaty arm entered my vision. It was Mia leaned against the counter. She smiled. "You have an eye for quality, those are both of our best sellers."

There were only a few spoonfuls left of my stew, and I didn't dare waste a single dollop or morsel. "I just picked the first thing I didn't know about."

The proprietress gave me a puzzled look. "You come from far away then?"

"Much too far."

She hummed before crossing over to the serving window and took a big plate of pasta. She then passed it to the white haired boy a chair away from me. One of the waitresses walked by and took the seat between us.

"Mama, do you mind?" the girl asked her boss.

Mia rolled her eyes. "Hmm." She went back to me. "How far did you have to come from that you haven't heard of daytime pottage?"

This time was my turn to smile. "I'm not really sure myself."

"You've got a lot to deal with right now, huh?"

I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath. "A little too much."

It wasn't easy, being so far from home, but the novelty of a drunk goddess helped tear me away from my sorrows.

Loki jumped from the table and sailed over the hands of the others while drowning in her booze. Gareth had an ale in each hand while someone else passed him a comically large roll of meat to bite from—that actually made a few rounds with the other dwarves… that could not have been sanitary but I guess it was their thing. Bete, at least, was drinking like a proper person, but the pile of mugs in front of him didn't bode well for anyone. Riveria, bless her, held to her sanity and wined and dined like this place deserved. Aiz, wasn't doing much of anything and only eating. Tione was still clinging onto Finn, who was actually surrounded by a lot of our own women and looked like a host of all things. Tiona was stuffing her face full, while Lefiya was sorta choking on something. The poor girl.

As far away as I felt right now for them, they were still my people now for better or for worse. At least until I figured out how to get by on my own or maybe escaped. I could fly, though I hadn't figured it out yet, but that much freedom meant I had options instead of just staying here. That's not including my ability to heal myself though. With it, I could easily make my own way in this world. Probably. But there was that slight complication with having to get my status updated to reap the benefits of my experience points.

Mia passed a mug to the white haired kid near me. "Make sure to eat a lot."

More waitresses in green dresses passed tables and people with practiced efficiency, always moving within tight windows and never spilling a drop of anything. They were a mesmerizing sight of beauty and grace, and really, all of them would've passed for models back home. It was rather unnerving how so many people looked so darn good here, but perhaps it was only because I was an outsider that they looked so good. Everyone had sharp noses where it suited them, and rounder ones for those with plumper cheeks. There were barely any past a certain size, and I wasn't spared the makeover either.

Whatever it was the falna did left such a big change that I literally didn't recognize myself after Loki showed me the aftermath.

I used to be five foot four and more than a little chubby at a hundred and ninety and lacking for exercise. I wasn't great looking, but I was sure I wasn't that ugly at least. Laura wasn't always that bitch who wanted me tumbling down the stairs, that animosity took history.

But now… well, I wasn't really sure what I looked like anymore. It was still me, since I recognized the eyes staring back, but at a brand spanking five foot eight, I was on top of the world. Not really. But the chiselled body I didn't even have to work for said more than enough of the anomaly that had transpired. None of my clothes fit anymore so I had to borrow some clothes from one of the other members, this okay dude named Raul.

They barely fit, just like how I felt under my skin. Moving around had been awkward as well after getting untied from my chair, and I stumbled a few times as we made our way here.

Loki said that not a single thing I had in my status came from my person. And the most I could think of having any connection to flight was my constant wishing for a better way to get around, then maybe Madness came from my feeling a little cuckoo from what had happened? The healing… yeah, no clue at all. Water may have come from my days back in high school with the swim team, Blizzard—more like ice, was maybe from me liking to chew on ice. And lightning… maybe from working with computers? It wasn't impossible at a far off stretch according to Loki, but none of those things held the gravitas needed to birth a new chapter in someone's legend.

I sighed and finished off my food.

Mia stacked up some freshly washed plates and glasses in front of her before busting out a small towel. "Rough night?"

"As rough as it gets."

She took one of the plates and got to work. "Difficult expedition, eh?"

I guess she meant the Dungeon. "Nah, I just joined the family."

She smirked. "Really? Scrawny kid like you joined with _that_ bunch?" She nudged her chin over to the others.

Loki was harassing the rest of the elves.

I hung my head. "I might've chosen poorly."

Mia snorted before picking up another plate.

The laughter in the air came to a crescendo as a lone voice howled above them.

"Come on Aiz, tell them that story again!" Bete was banging his tankard against the table and leaning towards the target of his unwanted affections. "Tell them all about the tomato boy!"

Some bothered laughing, but there were a few who didn't look too hot on the topic either. Aiz wasn't having any of it, and Tiona stuck her tongue out at him.

Bete scoffed. "Tsk, that weakling just got in the way, huh?" He laughed again, but there was no mirth in the cackling. It was an empty laugh from an empty place. "We were all just minding our business when these minotaurs decided to attack the wrong people."

He was frustrated, I got that much. But it was clear to anyone with at least two brain cells how Aiz didn't want anything to do with him—and _I'd_ been with the family for all of a few hours tops.

At least the root beer helped wash the bad taste away.

Mia shared a look with me, then her gaze lingered to the side—at the kid.

Oh.

Bete slammed his fist on the table, food and plates and drinks all clattering, some over and some to the floor. "Weaklings should all know their place."

Gareth had stopped his singing with the rest, the mood soured by the outburst.

Everyone was staring at him now, yet on he yammered about the strong being much better than the weak.

That's when Mia stopped polishing the glass she had in hand. She set it down together with the towel and placed both hands below the counter. Her face was the image of Buddha, and I knew better than to get between a storm and its prey.

I scooched over closer to the waitress next to me.

"Cheh." Bete spat out. "Between me and that guy, who else would you rather do, huh?" He leaned in close to Aiz. "Huh?"

Riveria stood up.

"Trash will always be trash." Bete cackled like a mad man.

"Bell!?"

The blur shot straight out the door.

Mia clicked her tongue, and the waitress that sat next to him gave chase but he was much too fast.

Tiona jumped Bete with a coil of rope while Tione knocked him good on the back of his head, and the guy was out in a flash.

And for some reason Aiz came out the door to the same spot the waitress had gone.

I finished off the rest of my drink.

"That kid just now better not die on me."

Something got stuck in my throat as ice crept up my fingers. I brought my hands down and out of view before wiping the frost off my tunic. "Why would he?"

Mia smiled like one would for a child. "You really _are_ new."

#

The following morning, I was up earlier than most of them.

Most because Gareth was nice enough to wake me up for some reason. But joke's on him since I actually didn't get a wink of sleep last night. It might've been jetlag or something since I wasn't sleepy despite being so tired. It also might've been how I still had to deal with the fact I wasn't on the earth I knew of and had no way to let my family know I was alright. Even if it made sense in my head how I didn't have the power to change my circumstance right now, it still didn't change the fact that I worried anyway.

The dwarf reached up to my neck but he was built solid as a rock. Where his armor made him look round, up close the guy had steel in his arms. He was dressed for a fight and even had a small axe attached to his hip. Small was relative since the head on that thing was as big as a dinner plate.

Gareth knit his brows. "You look horrible."

"You're not exactly a model yourself."

"What's a model?"

I took a deep breath and went to my happy place. "Did you need something?"

He passed me a thick leather vest and some metal tube-like things. "Loki asked me to take you to the Dungeon today, see what that magic of yours can do, and get you carrying your own weight as soon as you can."

Ah, work. Without the hazard pay and on a commission basis too. "Right, let me just take a shower first."

The dwarf shook his head. "You'll just get dirty again later. Wear those and come with me."

I stared at him for a good few seconds. "But, it doesn't feel right."

"Once you do go down with us, and _you_ will be going down with us, there'll be times where you'll have to go on without bathing for _days_. Best get used to it now."

I stared at him for another few seconds. "Do we really have to start with the immersion so soon though?"

Gareth scrunched his face. "I just said we wouldn't be going near water."

I massaged my temples. "No, don't mind it. It's a saying."

Gareth got out of the doorway.

Still dressed in the same clothes last night, the walk out was harder than the usual monrning's. Loki might've given me a place to stay, but that didn't include all the needs for daily life. It included food though, but only as far as was supplied by the cooks and the kitchens. And the few occassions where she was treating us—rather, the family's funds were to be used for said food like what happened last night. "Fine, let's do this."

Gareth led me down from my room at the third floor. On our way down, people were strewn about with some sleeping in odd angles by the stairs, halls, and one dwarf was even halfway out the window.

"Is that normal?"

"Don't worry about them."

"But that guy could fall from here?"

Gareth chuckled. "That's not a problem."

"Err, how is that not a problem?"

Gareth gestured at the floor. "I'd sooner he puke outside than ruin the carpet here. It takes another familia's expertise just to get the smell out."

"Right."

We reached the ground floor and got to the main area where Loki's painting with Finn was.

Gareth stopped. "We hadn't the chance to show you around last night."

He looked back and shot me an apologetic smile.

"To your left is the dining area." He indicated the large double doors opened to a few stragglers taking up some of the many chairs and tables and picking at some eggs, meats, and breads and bowls of soup. The elf in the pink dress yesterday, Lefiya, had some veggies and fruits on her plate. She met my eyes and waved sheepishly.

I waved back.

"And to the right here is the bathing area." My chaperone painted to the doors opposite the dining area's.

Steam was coming out of the doorway and some sounds of activity. There were others using the place, and the constant rush of water told me what I'd been wanting to hear for a while now. It was a shower. Or I hoped it was something like it.

"We only go there _after_ we come back from the Dungeon."

I sighed. The last I bathed was last night in Loki's room when I changed into the clothes I had on now. But I wanted another shower to get through the day.

Gareth then led me towards another corner of the castle, and down some stairs into the basement I didn't know we had. It was cool and dry and there were a few magic lamps to light the way. He led me through a short stone hall before stopping to another pair of wooden doors.

He pushed them in. "Can't have you diving down without anything on you."

"Thank you. But since I'm a mage, wouldn't it be better if I kept my distance?" The most I knew about the Dungeon was monsters and resources came from there, but that was it.

"And what happens when you run out of mind?"

"Err you mean a mana cost?"

Gareth cocked his head. "Mana?"

"Magic, don't mind it."

He shrugged and went in, flicking a switch somewhere to the side and the room came to life.

I went in after him. Swords, spears, shields, armor, you name it, and it was probably here. It was a little unnerving though seeing so much stuff in one place. It looked a lot like those supply rooms just before a boss fight—and talking that way didn't help. This world had a literal game-like setting complete with levels and magic and adventurers and stuff, and the tutorial wasn't as detailed as was comfortable.

Boss fights weren't that far-off an assumption either.

"If you earn enough today, you can get the one of the girls to take you around to shop for clothes and such."

Gareth picked up a long sword and handed it to me. It wasn't as heavy as I thought. I gave it a few test swings.

"You've never held a sword before." It was a statement, not a question. "Something else then."

Gareth took the weapon from my hands and put it back into the rack he took it from. "Would you say you'd prefer to fight closer or further?"

I didn't know jack shit how to use a sword, though I did know the names of a few designs, but a shield was always good to have. Probably. "Further, please."

Gareth took a spear and a bo staff and passed me the former. "We suspect your magics are all the instant cast types. No need to chant since there weren't any shown."

I held the long weapon in my hands and tried some stabbing and sweeping motions.

"You've never touched a sword but you have some idea how to use a spear." He chuckled. "Strange world you lived in."

It didn't need saying how I grew up with the Star Wars prequels and how cool Darth Maul was when he came out. "I was a curious kid."

Gareth took the spear anyway and passed me the staff. "I'm not confident lending you anything with a blade just yet."

I did some sweeps and thrusts with the bo staff.

"Better," he said. "But not quite there."

That's when Gareth took out a warhammer—that was much too huge and looked more like someone strapped an anvil to one end of a pole and called it a day. He lifted it with ease and passed it to me.

The hammer dropped into my hands and took all my strength just to keep it from hitting my foot. My arms shook as I supported the weight, but I wasn't gonna be swinging this thing anytime soon.

Gareth shook his head. "Defintiely not that then."

"Am I right in assuming you want me to fight in melee when I've got magic and can fly?"

He raised brow. "Any suggestions then?"

He had a big point with my lack of experience in wielding any sort of weapon, but as long as it was just swinging a stick or keeping a board facing front, I could probably manage. "Bows and arrows?"

"And you know how to make those?"

"Okay, fair. Then, why not a shield? I've got my magic to attack with, and then the shield in case something gets too close."

"And?"

"Uhh, I don't know, a mace? At least that way it's harder to make a mistake with hitting with the right end."

He stroked his beard and gave a sharp nod. "Good. You aren't deluding yourself into thinking you can use a sword from the start. That's a good place to start."

"It was all a test?"

Gareth shrugged. "I prefer to call it figuring out how stupid you might be."

"Don't worry, I'm plenty stupid." Stupid enough to agree to going down a large hole in the ground filled with untold horrors that a veteran team of super powered people would need a night of partying just to recover from.

"Hopefully not where it counts."

"I refuse to die. I actually want to find immortality here if I can."

He did a double take. "You're serious?"

I shrugged. "There's magic here and literal gods walking among you, who's to say immortality isn't actually possible?"

The dwarf pondered on that for a moment. "As long as you don't end up dying along the way then."

I eventually settled for a round shield that could strap down to my arm. It had a metal rim but the main face part of it was a good strong wood. Gareth gave his approval of my choice before handing me a short sword or knife. The blade part was about a foot long and the handle was half that, putting the thing at a foot and a half total. It had a solid and hefty feel and the balance was just right.

"I thought I was too stupid to use a sword?"

"Only if you try swinging that thing without knowing how to."

"Stabbing?"

He smiled. "Better."

"And armor?"

Gareth beamed. "Smart lad."

"Wait, whatever happened to keeping my distance?"

The dwarf laughed. "Oh, don't worry about that yet. I'll be teaching you _everything_ you need to know first."

Why did that fill me with dread?

#

Orario was more modern than I thought.

Or at least they had more government controls than I'd care to admit. Gareth took me to the Guild headquarters first to get myself an adventurer's license and to register as a new member of the family. It was part of the guild's measures against super powered individuals leaving the city and wreaking havoc in the wider world. As well as for monitoring the relative strengths of the different factions. After all, putting a bunch of egotistic douchebags like Loki, I'm assuming all of them were like her on some level, would no doubt lead to a lot of things getting blown out of proportion.

Really, the lady didn't give two shits about having me abducted and tied up to a chair even if I'd somehow earned their trust in some manner I wasn't really sure on. To be fair, I still didn't trust her one bit either, regardless of what fate she'd spared me from since the struggle was taken away from me with her intervention. I was little more than a glorified slave, now tied to her power.

I wasn't sure what kind of game she was playing, but as long as I could keep my magic—after figuring out what I was capable of that is—then and only then would I decide.

Gareth I'd already heard was a level six, and sure, her family was resting right now after its last great expedition to the deep floors, but to still assign someone so high up on the food chain to some scrub said more than she wanted to admit. I was sure she knew what I knew or had figured out, I wasn't about to question the cunning of a trickster god—or godess. And given how well armored Gareth was, it didn't take a genius to figure out he was likely some countermeasure against magic.

Even the choice of giving me these weapons I now had was a move as well. After all, I'd already seen someone wielding a staff.

And was even walking with one.

Lefiya, the elf, had tagged along with us as my advisor to learning how to best use my magic. She was a level three and hailed as one of the strongest magic users in the city—a veritable monster among monsters despite her lower level compared to our very own level six, _Nine Hell_ Riveria. The undisputed strongest magic user in Orario.

"Thomas," Lefiya said, "have you already tried using your magic?"

We were on our way down the stairs of the dungeon to the very first floor.

"Not yet, though I have tried saying the names of my magics before to see if that'd do something." Other than the times ice crept up my fingertips from my feeling some dread or some other emotion close to that, I had yet to display the same prowess with the floating chair before. Was Loki limiting my powers somehow? Or maybe I needed some sort of emotional trigger?

The elf pursed her lips. "It's a good thing nothing happened then."

"I'd hate to have to call Goibniu's lot to fix another room." Gareth sighed. "We already pay them enough on repairs to our weapons, adding to that their services for fixing up the manor would only push us further into debt."

"We're in debt?"

Lefiya nodded with a fervor to his words.

Gareth shook his head. "No, but I'd like to keep it that way"

"You guys have it tough too, huh?"

The elf gripped her staff. "The guild is unforgiving with their taxation of bigger familias, captain Finn even has trouble balancing our books at times."

"Did you seriously say taxes?"

The two sighed together.

We reached the first floor, a long hallway of blue rock and blue glowing crystals and also filled to the brim with people going in and out of the Dungeon. What few goblins popped up here—they were closer to brown than green—got swarmed and stomped to oblivion before they could finish breaking out of the walls. It answered a question I hadn't considered before entering, namely how and where monsters came from if they were birthed by the Dungeon. Random encounters really were indeed random to some extent, but only as far as where the monsters would come from position-wise and not if they were going to appear or not.

They would always appear, was the safer answer. Always.

I got my sword and shield out when the ground in front of me started cracking.

But Gareth ended the problem before it began with a quick stomp. A spindly little arm flew out of the rubble. "Using your body is always faster than using a weapon."

Some blood had pooled against his boot. "But you're level six."

"So? That's what we're here to find out, how much can you do."

"And my magic?"

Lefiya gave me an uneasy smile. "We're here to learn as well."

Gareth took my sword and shield from me for now. But it still took until the fourth floor before the people thinned out enough for us to break away and find a dead end. It was a large-ish room about fifteen meters long and wide and about six tall. If they so decided to kill me here, no one else would find out. Right now wasn't the time for second guessing, and it was also today where I'd finally confront magic for the first time. And on my own terms.

We had two goals: first was to see what my magic could do, and it needed to be done within the Dungeon and away from where other gods or adventurers could learn of them; and second, was to gauge my strength.

Magic came first since it would allow me to build up my stats faster, and also because Loki put a great emphasis on how much of a game changer one of my magics was.

"I'll make sure no one passes by." Gareth kept my sword and shield with him and left me and Lefiya alone to go further out the hall we came in from. The status of each family's members was also a close guarded secret, hence why we needed to do our experiments here.

Lefiya brandished her staff. "Do you still have the paper with your status in it, Thomas?"

I took it out of my pocket and passed it to her.

"Even now it still bothers me." Lefiya hung her head. "From what Lady Riveria and I were able to guess from your falna, we believe you have instant trigger spells. You only need to say the name of your spell and it will activate. Can we try that out, please?"

She was jumpy and polite. And weren't elves supposed to be this super proud race? At least that's how most media portrayed them as, then again there was always her being the outlier.

"Understood." I faced away from her. I had seven spells: Madness, Muninn, Wonder, Cure, Water, Blizzard, and Thunder. "Do I just start with whatever?"

"Please do." Lefiya opened some distance between us.

The best place to start was with what I'd already experienced before—even going so far as to use it without meaning to. I hadn't seen anyone use magic before in real life, but I saw it enough in video games.

I raised my hand and pointed it palm forward. "Blizzard."

Nothing happened.

"You can start whenever you want."

I stared at her. The elf scratched her cheek.

I raised my palm again. "Blizzard."

Still, nothing. No one ever said I'd get it in one. I had no experience with wielding magic, nor was it something real—or so I thought—in my world before but that didn't mean I didn't have my own thoughts on it.

I called on my experience of ice instead, how cold and smooth it could be, or how dry its surface was when it had yet to melt. From the tiniest snowflake to the largest of glaciers, from the estoric tragedy of the Titanic to the unbearably mundane ice cube floating in a cup of cola. It was ice, long ago mastered by my people and harnessed for our own desires and needs.

Then, there it was. Like a flow of blood from the depths of somewhere I couldn't place, it snaked its way up from the center of my being and filled the outstretched limb. It was a name, an experience, or even a memory all in one.

And I knew to speak then. "_Blizzard_."

Crystal clear ice shot out of my hand and struck the wall with a heavy crack. Then it fell to the floor with a dull thud still whole yet fractured but unmarred by dust. It was a jagged ball of ice as large as my head and flew faster than anything its size had any right to go. There was no recoil when I shot it, and I barely felt the cold when it appeared out of thin air. Magic, was what it was. It did not condense from the air, nor did it just appear like a glitch in reality. It was as if it condensed from the sensation that flowed out of me, like power incarnate if that was even a proper way to call it.

"That was, more intense than I thought." Lefiya wrote something into a notebook and a feathered pen. "And your status said it should shatter, perhaps the spell was incomplete?"

"I was wondering about that as well."

I was staring at the hand that cast it, but more than that, I was able to use it. Magic. Something other than the power before rose from my belly and filled my chest before making its way into my heart. I couldn't help my lips from tugging up as laughter fought its way out of my tensed shoulders and burdened mind.

I jumped, laughing and just so relieved that I wasn't as powerless as I thought. That spell just now was the first step I was able to take on my path back home, and it was just too much right now. Tears welled up and I had nowhere to hide them.

But that's when I noticed I never quite made my way back to the ground.

"That must be your flight spell?" Lefiya wrote some more into her notebook. "But you didn't have to say anything?"

Joy still heated my limbs and filled me with warmth. It was a feeling of power and happiness at finally having what I'd always always prayed for was true yet could never grasp. It was in losing what was important to me that I'd found this power, and it was also in taking the burden of home that I could now find the strength to cast away the ground.

I was held aloft in the air with joy, and like a dream half-remembered, I willed myself forward, recalling the few moments of lucidity I clung to in those secret moments I wished would never end.

The rush of wind and the smell of ancient stones had borne witness to my first flight.

I weaved up and down the room without a care in the world, not even bothering the elf that had long given up on getting my attention. I climbed and I dove, and I turned and twirled. It was a dance in the air like the underwater ballet I could only resign myself to. It was not like flying, for I never had any experience of it, but it was like diving into the air, undulating my body to control the speed of my thrust or angling my arms to catch the currents and direct myself to where I wished to go.

I could push onward and slow, I could float and begin anew, but it was always like I would move in water. Always with that first resistance of the fluid before it would give way and allow me to slip between the folding and ever changing wind.

By the time I could stop and turn on a dime, or choose where I'd stop and at what height, or feel how fast I could go and move sideways or up and below, only then did I make my way—still flying—back to my elven friend.

I stopped a few feet before her, my feet not touching the ground.

Lefiya was slouched. "Can we _please_ continue now?"

I nodded.

She sighed. "And your other spells?"

I raised my hand pointing away from her—then I noticed the ice ball was still there, melted somewhat, but still going strong.

With the image of water still fresh in my mind, I called on its power. Its weight, its uncompromising torrent and unbearable rage and unfathomable depths, but also its flexibility and finesse and its earnest effort to slip into the smallest of cracks. It was the essence of life and a close friend.

It was my comfort in my days growing up, the place I'd always come to when school was unbearable, and the place where I'd found her first. It was only in college that Laura and I got together, but we'd known each other long before that.

It was in the water where we first met—at some interschool meet, and she was the most beautiful I'd ever seen since then. Water was my friend, but also held my deepest sorrows.

And then, I spoke, "_Water_."

It flowed from my limbs and wrapped around me like a scarf, ever flowing and never stopping. Water had appeared from the power and danced around me in two trails of fleeting torrents, the burbling rush a comfort to my ears. It was a barrier as described, and the swirls of rushed about my person as I moved, always maintaining a sphere with me in the center as best as they could.

I flew on clad with my newfound power.

"You can fly and use more than one spell at a time." Lefiya laughed weakly. "The world can be so unfair at times."

I floated back to her. "You mean you can't use spells together?"

One corner of her mouth twitched. "Not with the same flexibility you displayed just now, no. My spells all require a chant, and I'm amazed that you have the mind to keep up your magic."

"I'm more amazed I can concentrate at all. More of I'm too happy to notice, maybe? I've always wanted to be able to fly, and now, here I am!"

I did looped in the air before settling again to floating near her.

Lefiya set her lips into a tight line. "I didn't mean it that way, mind is the capacity with which you can use magic. When you run out of mind, you cannot cast magic anymore and in some cases even pass out."

"Oh, you mean mana?"

The elf narrowed her eyes at me. "Mana is only for the spirits, mind is for us mortals."

I sat cross-legged against the air. "Tomato to_ma_to."

She tilted her head at me. "What?"

"It doesn't matter what you call it, is what it means."

She sighed again. "We still have four other spells to go through, I'd prefer if we can finish this before we need to have lunch."

"Right." We had yet to finish our goals, and even if I was able to use my magic, that didn't mean I could outright use them in combat.

I again opened some distance between us, and sometime before that my water barrier had already fallen to the ground after losing whatever power it was that sustained it. Knowing how much time I had and to what degree of protection it offered would be crucial later on.

Next came Thunder.

I recalled the image of lightning, of the power that enabled my people to subdue the earth and shape it in our image. It was with electricity that we had built the highest point of our civilization so far, and it would also be with electricity where we would take it even further. It was the epitome of all our developments, and of the elements we'd commanded, it was also the one with our greatest mastery.

Electricity enabled us the speed with which we could all build our lives around, communication, power, comfort, everything was built on harnessing this energy and making it our own. It was raw ferocity in the skies above, but it was also the silent hum of the computers that we gave so much of our lives to.

It was control, it was progress, and it was strength and creativity above all, the spark that allowed us all to flourish.

And with it came the word, "Thunder.

But none of the light.

"Thomas?"

"Err, maybe I did it wrong?"

I placed into my mind the image of lightning, strong, and fast, and power incarnate. I called on the flow from the depths and filled my limbs and as it neared my fingers so too did the word jump from the edge of my tongue. "Thunder—"

But a numbness invaded my arm instead as sparks licked and lapped against my skin.

"Ignis fatuus?!"

The energy burned within me, and the unbalanced state cut the power that was holding me in the air and I fell towards the ground.

Slender arms caught me. "Thomas!" Lefiya was gritting her teeth. "What's happening to you?"

I was shudderring. Chattering. Something was wreaking havoc within. The numbness had wormed its way up my arm and into my body. Everywhere was jerking stabbing pain. It was pain everywhere. My ears were ringing louder and louder.

"Thomas!"

The elf set me down on the ground. I spasmed and shot my limbs out in odd angles. My own magic had failed me, and now it dared to attack the one who wielded it. Was it my own fault? Was I never meant to hold this power?

Everything was pain before it all cut to black.


	4. Volume 1 Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Loki

The night ended soon after and they all went home escorting a few of their too inebriated to walk the rest of the way. And she, being their most generous and honorable goddess, reserved the right to be carried by her most treasured princess.

Aiz bore her without a word. Loki preferred she squirmed and wiggled more in discomfort because then she'd have more chances of getting a feel, but her level five was too strong to stumble and too stable to break character. The goddess buried her face in the girl's hair and breathed deep.

"I'll drop you."

"I couldn't help it Aizu, you're just too adorable."

"Gareth is strong enough to carry you."

Loki knew when to stop pushing. As much as she adored getting a rise out of her precious blonde, she wasn't feeling up for a big and burly man to hold her right now.

The goddess took a sip from her bottle.

Bete was still tied up for being a dick, and Tiona was having too much fun dragging his sorry ass through the streets. Literally. Well, more like his face. But that was besides the point. Relief, was one way to call the state of her heart. They'd met something unknown so deep down and lost a big chunk of the money they could've made, but no one died. And that was what mattered.

And then, something else fell into her lap near the same time such an unprecedented event happened with the unchanging Dungeon.

Loki looked back. Thomas, the poor lout, got roped into giving a piggy-back ride to Riine. She was much too good for him. They had more women than they did men after all, it was bound to happen one way or another. And yet it grated at her all the same. Riine was flat out drunk for the simple fact she loved to drink but never knew when to stop. She was feisty, that one. And more than a few of her own wanted nothing more than to bury themselves in her generous bossom.

After all, Loki wanted to do the same.

Even then, that idiot was too caught up in his own worries to bother joining in on the fun. It was a welcome back party for the expedition, but it was also a welcome party for him. Loki knew she did Orario a service by removing the ticking time bomb from the streets, and it was high time she received her due rewards for her good deed.

Their puking procession brought them through West Main where the Hostess of Fertility was, and then left up North Main after reaching Babel. They were mostly headed home, though a few of her men sauntered off down South Main for an after party. Southeast, to be more specific. They were good at what they did. Real good. But it was the goddess behind that Loki couldn't stand. That heifer bitch just loved rousing her lessers. Now if only she had enough consideration for the ones affected by the fall out.

Finn already went ahead with some of the others to prepare the beds ahead, ever the diligent guy, that one. He was too perfect in every aspect. Now if only she'd found that unpolished gem like she hoped, the sort of rookie that'd make waves with the bounds they'd overcome. She thought it was Aiz, but she was too special. And then she thought it was Thomas… but that was a straight up no after she'd given him her blessing.

She took another swig, but the memory gave it hint of sour.

Rakta siddled up to Thomas. She was supporting Raul, and everyone was giving them the space they needed but the girl was ruining her own chances. Everyone saw the her affections for the fool, and it was only Raul, too caught up in the glory of his seniors who couldn't accept that someone would be interested in him.

Riine slept without a fuss, no drooling, or mumbling or even so much as a shuffle. She wasn't exactly light, but that didn't stop him from shouldering the burden all the same. He stumbled a little but caught himself just in time. "Doing anything to someone who can't say no or yes is wrong."

Loki breathed easy. It was the ethics of a more civilized time. Rather, the ethics of a mind who has moved past survival and has had the time to ponder over what is good and evil. It was something Orario had yet to fully embody. Strength still ruled here, unfortunately.

Rakta narrowed her eyes at him. The experience was alien.

Thomas sighed. "Dude, I just grew four inches in the last few hours. Give me a break."

That was another point so unlike the others with him. Thomas physically changed so much from her blessing, and she had some idea why, but not on the how. He had a body fit for the urban jungle, with legs made for walking and a back just enough to carry the day's needs, but after receiving her power—whatever it was he carried acted like a catalyst and remade him. Loki wasn't sure how much of his hardware had been modified, since she'd have needed her Arcanum for that, but the precaution was more to make sure the software—or what little she got from him when they first met—was enough to deem him safe.

It was difficult dealing with a child who knew how to lie and keep secrets. Her time here on Gekai had already spoiler her so much.

Rakta glared at him anyway, and Thomas shook his head and walked on.

He was a whole mess of problems on two legs, and even if he could lie to her face, the worry was still clear across his mug. The guy had nothing else in his head the entire party except for finding a way to get home—and it pissed her off to know she couldn't coax him out of it. She wanted a toy. But what was one to do with a piece who didn't want to play? More so a piece that remained an unknown. Still, it was better to deal with the demon she knew. And letting anyone else have him meant she'd have to be watching her back.

Anyone with half a brain might've told Thomas he could gain the power to go home by killing a god—and had Loki cared less of her family, then it might've made for an interesting prank. But that was too much, even for her.

Loki nudged her beautiful ride. "Aizu, could you take me over there?"

She complied without a response.

"Heeeeey Thomas!"

Her newest child looked at her like he saw a cockroach on two legs. And had anyone asked her, she might've admitted to liking the sensation. Just a little.

"Hey." Loki thrust the bottle opening first towards his face. "It was supposed to be your welcome party."

"It was?" Rakta hiked up Raul.

"Was." Liquid sloshed in her bottle. "But this guy couldn't bother to join in on the fun."

He knit his brows at her. "Did you seriously expect me to go and party after having a bomb dropped over my head like that?"

Rakta tilted her head. "But you're uninjured, and didn't you—"

Loki thrust her bottle at Rakta. "No no no, don't mind what he said." She thrust it back his way. "Talk."

Raul was groaning and limping, too out of it to contribute to the conversation besides bothering his chaperone. And Aiz, wasn't interested in the least.

"And besides, that food was too good to make a mess with like you guys did."

Loki squinted at him. "I have no retort for that." She blew raspberries his way. "But it still doesn't absolve you being a wet rag."

"Why is Thomas a wet rag all of a sudden?" Rakta was frowning.

Loki and her abberration shared a look.

"I get now why you kept asking me those things when we first met."

The goddess closed her eyes. "You have no idea."

"Wait, I don't get it. What sucks? And what questions did you ask Thomas? And why is he looking at me like that?"

Raul groaned.

Aiz, still said nothing.

Loki turned to him. "Still doesn't change how much you suck."

He rolled his eyes at her.

They arrived soon after that, with Rakta taking Riine off his hands.

Loki retired to her room, but still unable to shake away the gravity of the unwanted answer to her prayers for something interesting. She walked over to her glass case, the one holding her treasures. And fumbled underneath the wood until her fingers found a little switch hidden inside.

Another drawer came undone just beneath the main display.

The goddess drew the papers from within, and flipped over the records she kept closest in her heart until she got to his. Then, in the silence of her own room, Loki stared at the record of his Status—the real one she made just after blessing him and before letting the others know of the abberation that walked among them.

It could not, should not, have been possible, and yet it was. And yet she knew that power better than anyone.

Thomas, and she wasn't really sure if it was still the real Thomas, carried a piece, more of a sliver, really, of that one bumbling buffoon in all the heavens. It was absurd and stupid and three measures of wrong with a dash of impossible and a heaping stinking pile of bullshit written all over the recipe.

Somehow, and for some twisted reason, that meathead had sent Thomas to Orario.

"What the hell did you get up to, Thor?"

###

Lefiya

Lefiya had always taken pride in her magic.

She loved it. She lived it. It even allowed her to first level up all those years ago. It was passion and strength, it was the power to turn the tide with a decisive move, it was the resolve to go above and beyond one's limits, it was the blessing given to them closest to the realm of the gods. It allowed her to unleash a strength so much more than she was, so much more than her own heart could ever hold.

Lefiya was blessed by her people's heritage, a treasure unheard of, the one elf that had the power to condense the magic of her people. Lefiya knew she was strong. She understood that. But she had yet to come to terms with it being so close to the pinnacle of their people's finest. Riveria held the title of Orario's strongest mage. An existence so pure she could grasp a realm of power comparable to spirits' dominion.

There were others with great magic too, but never one to rival the elves in any way.

But then came someone who tore down what she knew to be fact, that the elves were second only to the children most favored by the gods. It was a lone human bearing seven spells and had something so egotistical as to say it carried the very ends of magic itself.

It was impossible and unthinkable that someone like that would appear.

Much less from a place that held no magic. He was not built like the rest of them, not built for a life spent fending for one's place in the world. He was too soft and unwary and weak. She hated how much she saw of herself in him.

Then came the declaration of his superiority.

Her goddess called him her new toy, but after she'd blessed him, an emergency had been called to discuss the abberation that was birthed. He was dangerous. A human, as far as they all knew, with seven spells when one graced with the falna could only ever have three. It was the limitations of their mortal frames, and he was from a place much further than even the gods had lived, a place where no magic touched or sprang from.

Which meant he could only be something very, very wrong.

And the weaknesses she'd seen on him before, those disappeared after he was reborn into this world. The softness on him had hardened where it mattered, and yet he stayed the same inside. Lefiya wanted to know what made him so different, what made him so blessed, and if, she too, could find the same depths he'd reached however and whatever the price he paid. She was so envious of him to be so fortunate as to have magic itself give him its favor. She wanted the same power that allowed him to dance in the sky just like the figure she chased after so desperately.

She wanted to catch up to her most of all.

He was a mystery, but when she'd seen him fly, when she saw him laugh and loop in the air like a child, Lefiya saw someone who'd gotten in over themselves and was simply so overwhelmed from whatever it was he was facing. He was a person just like her. Thomas had his own dreams, fears, uncertainties, his own burden to carry, his own unfathomable adventure that would take him further than anyone else here could ever go.

And it was only in that moment that she was able to see a face other than the horror she had convinced herself he was.

And still she envied him so.

And then the monster before her fell from the sky.

She'd recognized his mortality then, but that didn't mean they were comrades. Not just yet. And yet if she abandoned him now, would she ever be able to forgive herself?

Lefiya ran up and caught him in her arms, only to fall prey to the onslaught of his own mistakes. Lightning wracked her body and numbed her level three form.

She set him down, unable to continue tanking his rampant magic.

Gareth came not a moment too soon. "What happened?"

"He suffered an ignis fatuus. His magic is running out of control!"

The high executive crouched and took Thomas's hand in his—but she could already smell the burning flesh. His magic was cooking him from the inside out. He wouldn't survive long at this rate.

Gareth steeled his expression and took out of his pouch a high elixir. The dwarf opened the vial and drank the contents, before taking Thomas's mouth. Lefiya could only watch on the haphazard application. Gareth gave him two more mouthfuls, the same way taking from the bottle and passing it to the human before her who burning his life away to wield a power he never should have had.

But before Gareth could finish his task, the dwarf jumped away from Thomas and pulled her faster than she could follow into the hallway he had come from.

All Lefiya saw after that was a great explosion of light, after which she ran back towards their newest member—who was still surrounded by a great many tendrils of light that were tearing through the Dungeon's walls and cutting great swathes through its unbreakable stones, leaving behind long glowing lines of molten rock and chunks of stone from the walls.

To be so high up and have a level six prepare himself was a disturbing sight on its own, Gareth equipped the axe he had with him. "Prepare yourself, a Juggernaught might spawn."

Lefiya didn't need to be told twice. She readied her staff and called on the well of power within. She'd faced those things before, but never with just two people. It was always with great care that their familia destroyed more of the Dungeon than they should, always only during the most desperate of times. But this was not one of those.

Lefiya watched on as Thomas continued to churn out more of a power he shouldn't have.

One minute turned to two.

And two turned to three, and still Thomas's power continued to tear through the room.

Yet the guardian of the Dungeon did not show. The dwarf never let his guard down, even after the lights surrounding Thomas had receeded and the stones next to him had stopped glowing their angry red. Maybe Thomas wasn't doing enough damage? Or maybe they were too high up for it to spawn? But what concerned her more was how she took this all in as fact. Even unconscious and with the added magic power restored by a high elixir, how was it that Thomas could still output so much?

Just how much of his soul was tainted by whatever it was that caused her Goddess to worry so?

Gareth kept his vigil while Lefiya walked over to him—hoping against hope he hadn't died.

She crouched towards his char covered body that looked more like a coccoon than anything else. The smell of burnt skin was overpowering. But she saw the crusted shell heave as if breathing. Lefiya reached over the shell and placed her ear to where his mouth ought to be.

It was faint, but the rush of air was right there.

"He's… still alive, I think."

Lefiya would've sworn a million questions were running through her head, but when her fingers pried open the still hot shell formed from the molten stones that had dropped from the ceiling and maybe Thomas's own flesh, she never expected the jagged prick of metal to marr her.

The elf drew her hand back from the mass of, whatever that was. "Gareth, what's happening?"

But the dwarf didn't so much as take a single look at her, only ever scanning every inch of the destroyed room about them. "I doubt I can be much help either, lass. All I know is we need to tell Loki what happened as soon as we can."

###

Gareth

Loki had a lot of explaining to do.

When she'd tasked him with showing Thomas how to survive, Gareth thought it would only need the usual instructions on not to overextend or be overconfident. Most of their new members needed just that. But Loki forgot to mention just what kinds of crazy things he was bound to encounter just from being near Thomas. The matter of the spells was bad enough, but to have someone half-die and now encase himself in a coccoon of dungeon rock and blood was just so beyond him that no amount of ale was going to remove the image of that burning boy screaming his lungs out. It was either that or having to feed him the potion through his mouth. And no doubt, both memories would haunt him for a long while.

Gareth stowed his axe away and the remains of the elixir.

"I'll carry him back."

Lefiya nodded, still too shocked in her own way. He passed her the shield Thomas was supposed to use and sheathed the sword Aiz had given him. The elf moved away, still a little dazed.

He crouched down and took the breathing case of rock holding Thomas inside. It was jagged and hot, and should've called a guardian to end the problem faster than he could throw a stone. And yet nothing happened. He'd destroyed the Dungeon's floors before to see how much damage was needed to trigger the guardian, and by Gareth's estimates that much should have gotten a response. So how, and why? Two questions that both involved the anomaly Loki picked up.

It was a small mercy still how he wasn't right now fighting for his life against a Juggernaught, but Thomas holding such potent magic was only as good so far as it was pointed at their enemies. It wasn't lost on Gareth just why Loki had assigned him to guide their new member. Neither was the meaning of the high elixir she gave him that morning.

Loki knew more than she cared to share.

But for now, they needed to get Thomas some help. Gareth knew better than to walk across the streets of Orario carrying something that had never been seen before. That would only get people asking to look at his spoils and asking what it was. Even with his fame as a level six, coming back with some unheard of loot was bound to raise questions. And if he removed the stones here and now, then it would be an even more questionable trip back carrying a most likely naked man.

Thomas wouldn't be breathing if he hadn't survived having molten stone rain on him. And even if he survived didn't mean his clothes would. Keeping him encased for longer wouldn't hurt anymore than waiting a few more minutes to get him back as he was.

Gareth and Lefiya began the quick trip up. He'd had her go on ahead to buy a bag from somewhere on the surface and to make her way back to some corner he hid in by the second floor. Becoming a topic for discussion was easier than owing some supporter some money from borrowing their bag, given the very fact of him asking to borrow or buy a bag would only be more enticing for rumors. But to ask a junior member in the familia to retrieve something to hide their spoils is was not something unheard of.

The dwarf gritted his teeth before shouldering the casket of stone.

It was going to be a long walk home.

They made their way back to the manor after just a couple of hours of going down earlier. Riveria had taken it upon hersef to examine the state Thomas was in, and Finn had passed her another high elixir should she need it. Gareth then helped to remove the cocoon from Thomas, and what they found was a body as if untouched by the ordeal. He had no wounds to show for what happened even after they'd removed the jagged stones covering his body. They then left him to recover on his own bed from there.

After that Gareth called Riveria, Finn, and Loki soon after. He told them the tale of what he'd seen, starting from when Thomas first used his magic with Lefiya until the moment they came bursting through the door with the aftermath. He left nothing in his tale save for how he'd delivered the potion to his charge. That part wasn't important.

At the end of it all, Loki stood and walked over to the window. She leaned one hand against the wall.

"So?" Gareth wasn't backing down without any explanations.

Loki shook her head. "Thomas has the blessing of another god."

Finn steepled his fingers over his desk. "That doesn't answer the strangeness of what happened in the Dungeon just now."

"This god's influence was with Thomas's falna." Loki looked over to them. "Thomas had his soul changed by another god."

Riveria brought her fingers to her lips. "That explains why he has more than three spells at least."

Finn shifted in his head. "But it doesn't explain how he was brought here."

"I can only assume that god had his reasons for sending Thomas here." Loki bit her thumb. "Something big is happening with Orario, and I do not enjoy not having a single clue on it."

Finn was smiling. "And you think this matter with Thomas is connected to those new species we found in the fiftieth floor?"

"The timing is too close. And if it was simple coincidence, then there's at least two big things happening that we both don't know anything about. Had someone else got to Thomas before I did, I don't even want to imagine what they'd have done. The very foundations this fragile society treads upon could come crashing down over our heads."

Gareth couldn't accept that. But he was indeed just a level one right now. "You mean Thomas is that dangerous?"

"No, Thomas is not dangerous on his own. But he is dangerous in the sense that he proves it is possible to grant a blessing outside of the falna." She shook her head. "The rules only ever said the gods weren't allowed to use our godly powers to modify the people of Gekai, so why not modify someone who came from somewhere other than Gekai?"

Finn rested his head against his hands. "And to what purpose would they take someone?"

"I don't know either." Loki looked out the window. "He's too honest, that guy. If he really did want to send Thomas here, he'd have left some sign saying just that. This isn't his style."

"Why do I feel like you're still hiding something?"

"You always did have a good sense for these things, Finn." Loki smiled. "Just guesses for now. And more questions than I'd like."

The three of them looked to her.

Loki clenched her jaw. "There are only a few ways to traverse the World Boundaries, and for that guy to willingly do this would mean he'd have needed to take the souls of a few million."

Riveria narrowed her eyes. "Blood magic?"

The goddess took a deep breath. "Not even close. This is magic not even the gods dare to touch."


	5. Volume 1 Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Thomas

I woke to a still alien ceiling.

It was turning into a pattern, waking up like this. The first time had me out on the streets with no memory of what happened, the second brought me before the mercy of some psychopathic megalomaniac and held at sword point, and the third had my bare ass tucked all neat and tidy back at my bed in the Twilight Manor.

Good progress all things considered, just not in the direction I wanted.

Waking up and having to remind myself why I wasn't on my bed, my real one, was never easy. This was my reality now. I just haven't gotten used to it yet. I was still in Orario and still Thomas the adventurer instead of back to being Thomas the guy who worked with computers. The change in skill set from analyst to adventurer was too abrupt and the benefits were shit, though including housing and being able to do magic made it a little more bearable.

Then again, I'd had all of a few hours on the job before I had my first accident. Really, the last thing I remembered was going numb from trying Thunder and falling to the ground then poof, here I was.

Every inch of me itched with a vengeance. I reached for the ceiling. My arm was tinged with pink splotches and turned white on touch. The color stung like sunburn and burned like a bitch. My throat was dry and the faint smell of smoked meat lingered in the air. Other than a slight headache, everything was next to chirpy. Probably.

Sure it was a little annoying how I managed to damage myself when all the other times in video games made it look so easy, but immersion was never a thing in most rpgs. That is, experiencing magic didn't have a baseline to compare with back in my old world. As far as I knew, at least.

Cure could help, but did I want to risk another misfire? What could go wrong with healing magic going berserk anyway? Too many things, actually. How did it even work in the first place? Did it replace damaged tissue with something else that was simply perfectly compatible? Did it cause an increase in cell division? What happened to the energy and biomass used by the cells in that case? If my healing magic went haywire, could it cause cancer or some other hyperactive complication?

To be fair, one of the first three spells I used had that same possibility of going phenomenally wrong and only Thunder did something within the realm of catastrophic. I got back here alright thanks to Lefiya and Gareth, so as long as I had supervision it ought to be alright.

If I survived the ordeal, that is. And I survived this one—assuming it was even life threatening. Getting covered in burns didn't quite reach the level of never-do-this-again though it did have shit side-effects. With great power came great responsibility, but that was on the assumption said power didn't need any practice for one to wield it first. Spiderman's spider senses probably helped a lot with developing the skills and the hyper reflexes pretty much ensured anything he met he could react to on a dime. I wasn't that lucky.

With great power should first come great respect for how many ways said power can fuck the wielder over without trying too hard ought to be appended to that golden rule.

Behind the window was a clear blue sky. I wasn't too out of it, so maybe the day hadn't changed yet? I didn't have any clothes on to gauge how stale I smelled, only my covers and my own not too soiled body. Magic-based airconditioning worked wonders with keeping the humidity level constant but made it harder to judge how long I'd been out from how dry I was.

I tore away my covers just to be sure.

Everything that mattered was still there. The tension in my shoulders and loins subsided as I figured how to best keep my skin from itching any more than it already did. Scratching would only lead to more problems. And casting cure here was my best bet. Since it was my only bet save for asking Loki for another hand out. I'd already used magic thrice successfully and only failed once. A seventy-five percent success rate for a start was pretty damn good for a completely new and never before tested or simulated pilot.

Blizzard and Water were easy enough to draw out. They were things I was familiar with physically and thematically. I knew the ways they could move and form and what they meant to me and my people. Flying was more an exercise in keeping up my spirits but in terms of a solid image at best I had the feeling of freedom when diving below the surface or that welling swelling vastness in the chest whenever I went on thrill rides or went fast enough, it was a part fear and awe and terribly hard to shake off once

With Thunder, or lightning… I wasn't so sure. The falna described it as shooting electricity, and it hadn't failed me yet with the spells that worked. Blizzard created a ball of ice, that didn't shatter per se, but it did fracture. So, uhh, close enough. Then with Water, it created those wisping trails of, err, water. Like a barrier. Though how two measly things like those protecting me was anyone's guess. And flying was flying. Maybe the image I had of lightning was wrong? Did I even need an image for the spells to work? It worked with Water and Blizzard but failed with Thunder and worked without it for Wonder. What the hell kind of edgy shit was Madness, even? And what was a Muninn anyway?

_What the? Who's there?_

And now I'm hearing voices of all things.

_Woah, crap. Who are you and what are you doing in my head?_

Damn, I must be pretty out of it to be thinking up a shitstain of a voice like that.

_Excuse me? Shit stain? This is some unwarranted aggression._

Oh get off it you little shit. I've had a bad enough day as is.

_Then why drag me into your problems?_

Bruh, you're a part of me. You don't get a choice with going along the interdimensional ride of a lifetime.

_Wait, Thomas?_

Why yes, voice in my head, my name—our name is indeed Thomas. At least that's what it says on my birth certificate. And why the surprise? Are you suddenly gonna declare something like, oh, please call me Timothy instead?

_Timothy? What? Tom,_ d_o you seriously talk like this in your head?_

Indeed I do, me. This is how I talk in my head. Or at least I'm trying to come to terms with finally cracking. Really, Laura always said it was bound to happen one day, but she wasn't exactly blameless here either. That bitch had the emotional intelligence of—

The door came off its hinges and fell to the floor with a crack and in came Loki walking over to my bed.

"Get the fuck out of my head, Tom."

"What."

She looked me left to right before settling on where my hands stopped to preserve what was left of my modesty. "And no, I am not painting you like one of my girls. Maybe as a model for playlobster, but I'm not interested in shrimps."

"_Ouch_." But I had to admit she let rip a good one. "That cut deep."

"Deeper than you can ever go."

"Lady, _please_. You can stop beating my ego with the proverbial stick already."

Loki dropped her smile. "Seriously though."

"Seriously, what?"

She leaned in and slammed both hands over the mattress. "Stop screaming in my head."

I am a potato?

"No, you're more like a carrot actually." She snorted. "Maybe two carrots."

"Right, umm, about that…"

I didn't know how to best turn off my magic so I did the next best thing and said the name again in my head. And to our surprise, it worked. After that Loki dragged me to Finn's study and called the two who accompanied me earlier plus the two other leaders of her family. It was half to process what had happened in the Dungeon, and half to report to them our own accidental discovery. We explained to them the best we could and showed off the effects by carrying on with a game of chess with me doing the moves and Loki deciding.

We found out Loki was shit at visualizing scenery, though she gave me shit for being horrible at describing the pieces. But no one wanted to listen to that kind of trash talk anyway. We all eventually retired to Finn's study.

"Right, so Muninn allows you two"—Finn looked at me and Loki in turn— "to talk to each other in your heads?"

Riveria pursed her lips. "I don't like where this is going."

Loki had on the biggest grin. "We can, but it hurts since this idiot can't turn down the volume."

She was seated on Finn's desk and I took the left chair where Gareth sat opposite me. Riveria and Lefiya were by the window seats.

Our goddess raised her brow. "But we'll fix that in time." Loki scooted closer to me and raised her leg to my shoulder.

Gareth looked at me funny.

"This is all her."

"Yes, and I suppose you also had to show up here with only a bed sheet?"

"For the record, I woke up naked and couldn't find my clothes."

Lefiya went bright red. "That didn't need to be included in this discussion."

"It does." Gareth leaned in closer. "Are you and Loki… fraternizing?"

Riveria looked aghast.

"She's not _that_ bad."

Loki raised her other leg against my neck and squeezed her thighs together. "You're not a bed of roses either."

Lefiya covered up her face and turned away.

The bitch had thighs of steel as spindly as they were, but I managed to squeeze my fingers in enough to allow me some room. "I swear I'll bite."

Finn pulled her away soon after that, though he looked a little pale. "No. We do not go there."

The little captain cleared his throat. "On the subject of Thomas and Loki's… connection." He shook his head. "This is a valuable tool for us during the longer expeditions. Information can easily be forgotten or records lost especially when we have to devote all our wits just to survive, but this magic will allow us to better manage information. We can establish an information base here that Loki and the others can relay to us whenever we need it." His eyes glinted in the light. "We can even call for aid should we need it."

Gareth smirked, and Riveria hummed in approval.

Finn rubbed his chin. "One of our first priorities then is to figure out the maximum range of your spell."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I wouldn't last two seconds down there, yes?"

Gareth chuckled. "You don't have to go down the exact same floors we go to, Thomas."

"But I'd still be pretty close."

"You're not wrong." The dwarf stroked his beard.

"However, we also cannot deny the usefulness of your other magics." Riveria stood up and walked over to me. "First and foremost, _you_ have a way to produce water from thin air."

"What, there are deserts in the Dungeon?"

Finn shrugged. "Yeah, actually. There are."

"How big is the Dungeon anyway?"

Loki shrugged. "The Dungeon never bothered following Euclidean geometry."

The elf was now behind me. "But what's even better is we can _reduce_ the water we need to bring on expeditions."

"I'm guessing you guys can't do that?"

Lefiya stared at me. "Thomas, of all the spells I know, some of them can only control the water that is already there but never create or take it from the air." She then explained that as they were taking me back up, the ice and water I'd created stayed that way. With the former only partially melting after the one man rave party.

"Not to mention you can fly." Loki poked my nose. "And that, my dear friend, makes you even more valuable than anything this world has ever birthed."

"Now that sounds like bullshit."

"Other people can fly, Thomas. In fact, Aiz is perfectly capable of doing so." Finn raised his finger. "However, none of them can fly on pure magic alone, and all of them involve some noisy and flashy means to do so."

Lefiya's eyes sparkled. "You fly without sound or light coming from you. And that allows you to do something no one else can."

"Err, assasinate people?"

Loki started laughing.

No one else joined in.

"No Thomas, we do not assassinate—" Finn stopped. Then he looked up before hanging his head a beat later. "Okay, we _sometimes_ might need to, but only if it's a really bad war game."

"Or if Ares comes to visit again." Loki spat her words out. "You can fly me in there silent as a kite and I can stab that bastard in the eye and be finally done with it. Or maybe between his legs. I'll just decide then."

"That's a lot of pent up rage, Loki, you ever consider going to therapy for that?"

"Alcohol is my therapy."

"Wow, and I thought I was bad."

Gareth squinted at me. "I do believe you are, we just haven't had enough chances yet to confirm."

"So I guess I'm plenty amazing then?"

Loki waved her hand level to the ground. "Sorta. Though we've yet to see your lightning, healing, and that other spell, err, Madness?"

I shrugged. "What kind of edgy name is _Madness_ anyway?"

My right arm burst into a plume of shadows and Finn had pulled Loki away from me the moment the spell ignited. Lefiya on the other hand had hidden behind Riveria, and Gareth didn't give so much as a wink.

I stared at the limb now emanating a thick, ink-like smoke. "No… it can't be _that_ easy."

Loki was wrapped around the Pallum, arms and legs both. She poked her head out from one side, one eyebrow in an arch. "I'm assuming you never even tried to say the word?"

"Saying something like _this is Madness—_"

The magic turned off on command.

They all stared for a good second.

"Really? Just saying _Madness_"—my hand burst into shadows—"works just like that? And what?" I waved my other hand and said, "_Cure._"

Green light shone from the non-shadowed limb and settled on my body and a little also went to Loki. The itch and redness disappeared instantaneously.

Loki cocked her head. "Congratulations Tom, you just _cured_ my hangover."

Lefiya was on all fours. "…it really was a chantless healing spell."

Riveria was leaned against her one elbow by the window. "I feel cheated."

Finn chuckled. "This is still good, right?"

"And what, saying Thun—"

Gareth's hand found my mouth. "Let's not tempt fate, Tom."

#

Turns out each spell activated with a different rule.

We were back in the fourth floor of the Dungeon, but this time on our way to the stairs leading down to the fifth. We'd rushed back to the Dungeon after I'd healed myself of my own folley followed by a quick lunch and pestering Raul for another spare set of clothes. I owed him two shirts, two pants, and two pairs of boots for the ordeal now and on my debt grew, though underwear was gonna have to wait for my first proper paycheck. The pants didn't ride as bad as I thought but sudden movements were harder than normal with everything hanging so loose.

I was face to face with my first kobold and it was high time I finally acted like a proper main character. Gareth and Lefiya had already taken care of the others that came when it spawned so now it was my turn to shine.

"_Madness_." My entire arm took on an inky black plume of smoke—but left the sword uncovered. It, Muninn, and Cure were different from how Blizzard and Water worked in that they seemed to just go after saying the trigger. Or in the case of Muninn, with the thought. With the other two spells it took an image and this sensation of something rushing out of me, but three were closer to the surface in a way. There was no trailing power through my body, just magic with a snap, and as the easiest attack spell—as described in my status—to activate, Madness was invaluable during any confrontation. However, given how nothing had happened since I activated it even in the presence of an enemy, and neither did it automatically shoot out or extend, it might be safe to say this thing was a melee only magic.

Just great.

The kobold snarled as it shifted its weight, it's claws held at the ready. It was about two-thirds my height and all skin and bones, if by simple biology and physics, then it was an easy estimation that I as the larger creature had the advantage in terms of agility and strength even if the creature's muscles had a more efficient manner of exerting power. But given the magic crap that was the falna, that rule of thumb went out the window like a brick. Did monsters even have a falna?

_You're a lot more bearable when you're down the dungeon._

Why do you have to make it sound weird?

_Why can't you just kill the damn kobold already?_

I raised the shield in my other hand, ready to receive.

The situations portrayed in those hack and slash games didn't give the actual experience of standing in front of a monster the proper respect it deserved. The real thing involved choking on deciding between moving or standing ground, or veering left or retreating, or attacking or defending or waiting. Sweat riddled the handle of my sword and I had yet to use it. Games, especially the turn-based rpgs, were worse in this aspect since it didn't show the value of time in these kinds of struggles.

That's when the monster decided to attack. I was not prepared for that angry mess of claws and fur to come in swinging. But the shield was still big enough to eclipse me, so all that animosity was relegated to dull thumps rattling against the solid wall between us. The monster shrieked and barked and clawed to a cold barrier.

I shoved it back and opened some distance.

"You could've hit it with the sword, Thomas!" Gareth sighed loud enough.

"This is way too much pressure for a first timer!"

_Geez, Tom, it's just a kobold. Quit treating it like it's a big deal._

You're not helping either, Loki.

My shadowed arm still spewed that deep black smoke, the magic not wrapping around the sword was disappointing on its own. I didn't trust myself enough to hit the thing properly with a swing, and I wasn't sure either if I could stab it. The kobold was a small target. And moving, too. Two things that didn't contribute to an easy hit.

Why did Madness even activate on just one arm? Why not my entire body instead?

But before that, I was a mage. I took another few steps back and pointed my sword at the creature. I called on the image of ice and the jagged ball I'd conjured earlier. It was the first spell I'd ever used and reminded me of the sacred treasures from that one anime. I pictured a gigantic gun attached to my arm of the purest crystal, clear and cold and deadly. In my hand was the fury of a snowstorm, the suddeness of a chill, the vastness of an avalance, and the sheer destructive potential of an iceberg—much smaller—coming at something at who knows how many miles per hour.

It was the rush of undeniable force and biting winter.

The name appeared on my lips, "_Blizzard_."

White mist thundered from my hand still covered in Madness's power and shot forward with my sword caught in the ice. The main body of the spell missed but the frost trapped weapon nicked the kobold hard in the chest and took it down.

The monster shrieked and scrambled on the ground, flailing and shambling and trying to crawl away. It took less than a second to go from a mess of violence to one of panic.

And the ball of ice with my sword in tow stopped rolling and clattering a few meters away.

Lefiya shook her head. "That's one way to use magic too…"

Gareth wiped his hand over his face. "It wasn't further than three meters away from you."

"Can't we all just appreciate the fact I was able to use it in battle?"

The dwarf groaned. "Just finish the poor thing already."

Not one to let an opportunity go, the thing's legs and arms fell next to the edge of my shield. It struggled and made noise, but it couldn't do anything to me anymore. The battle was already won, but there was no fanfare or celebration after. All it left was a bad taste in my mouth, and I had yet to take the kill.

There was no glory in a one-sided assault.

I crouched next to the still struggling monster and touched it with my magic.

If it was screaming before—only now did it begin to wail itself hoarse. Whatever it was my magic was doing, it was causing the kobold to struggle with an undeniable manic energy that made the creature give everything it had and more to achieve some futile reprieve.

I kept it up, simply touching my black burning magic to it until the ringing in my ears or the tumbling in my stomach didn't bother me as much anymore. It took a long while to get used to the sound of its voice and even long after the monster had all but a whisper left did I continue to hear this silent thrum.

All beat and spent, I stood up and stomped in the kobold's head.

It was too much effort just to bring one monster down. One monster that wasn't even as large as me.

Gareth stepped around the corpse and met me eye to eye. "It's good you can go for the kill, but why let the thing suffer?"

"I needed to know if I had the stomach for it." I didn't know if it would feel as empty as stepping on a cockroach, but the sensation of flesh giving way was certainly more novel than the crunch of chitin.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You'll just wear yourself out like that."

"Just this once, and the others I'll be better with."

"It's just your first day, Thomas." Lefiya avoided the pool of monster gore by my feet. She bunched up her skirt behind her before crouching down and gesturing for me to do the same.

I did as asked.

Lefiya gave me a small knife. "Use this then to carve out the magic crystal in the goblin's chest."

"Ah right, the monster loot." I took the knife and turned the kobold over to its back. "Wouldn't it be better if these monsters just burst into ash or drop bags of gold directly after dying?"

The elf frowned. "If only." She pointed at the thing's solar plexus. "Please cut upwards from here, and the stone shouldn't be deeper than a couple centimeters from there."

I stabbed the knife into the creature and it burst into ash. "Err, was it supposed to do that?"

She shrugged. "You'll get the next stone then. You ended up breaking the crystal when you stabbed it. Monsters who lose their cores burst into ash after having the source of their life and magic taken from them."

And now all that technology up top took a turn for the macabre. "So all those lights and cooking stuff and everything else we have at the mansion was made out of monster parts?"

Lefiya blinked. "Yes, why'd you ask?"

"And there's nothing wrong with that?"

"It gets the job done, Thomas." Gareth cleared his throat. "And monsters are simply the Dungeon's way of moving about. Come on, you've still got a ways to go."

"Right…"

Gareth broke the ice containing my weapon and passed it back. We then moved onwards to the fifth floor and no sooner had we descended the stairs and found some hall without anyone else did a new monster pop-up, this time it was a large lizard that was staring at me at eye level.

Gareth gave me a pat on the back. "Make sure to watch out for the tail."

I rolled my eyes. "I have a better idea." I passed him the sword and shield. "_Madness_."

I charged the creature with a full sprint.

The lizard lunged forward and opened up its mouth to reveal jagged teeth.

"Don't be an idiot Thomas!"

I'd already seen what Madness could do, and just getting it in contact with my target was enough. That wasn't gonna be an issue as long as monsters didn't share whatever they learned between spawns. Or if the Dungeon displayed the capability to learn.

Its wide open mouth clamped down—

—onto the arm I gave.

The thing started thrashing and raging in a frenzy, so much so that I was thrown off into a nearby wall and crashed back first. I hit the ground belly first.

I got to my feet and chased after the buckling lizard. Pain addled my chest and the arm I gave. "_Cure_."

Green light surrounded my body and put me back to working order.

The monster fell soon after that when I grabbed its head and cast blizzard point blank. The way blizzard worked was it generated the mass without caring for the relative position of my hand and whatever was caught within the initial effect of the magic was frozen along—hence my sword coming off earlier. Madness worked great for keeping the heat away, and Cure, was, to be honest, nothing short of cheating.

"I had a feeling you'd end up doing that sooner or later." Gareth shook his head. "It's a horrible habit to develop, and I'd sooner stop you if I can, but you're old enough to know what you're doing, and too weak for it to be a big flaw right now." He took a deep breath. "Let's just go and see how deep you can go for now."

"Healing yourself and not needing to chant any magic…" Lefiya groaned. "And then casting more than one magic at a time and without needing to wait." She clutched her head. "This is just too much to bear all at once."

Lizards, more kobolds, and goblins showed up one after the other, each one falling to Madness one way or another. Goblins were the lighter bunch and worked well as makeshift flails. They were about the size of a toddler and had enough heft to hit but not heavy enough to strain. The kobolds were the trickier bunch since they tended to work together, but teamwork didn't do much against a target they couldn't touch or injure for too long. And as for the lizards, they were the toughest to crack but as long as I could inflict my magic on them, then things would go smoother from there.

I forewent the shield and sword since I was doing enough damage just stomping out the monsters, and Water, if casted prior to charging, actually sought out targets if they came too close. They pushed back the monsters with enough force into the walls to daze them or far enough away back to create space. I was able to kill a few goblins with just that, but anything larger survived the onslaught.

Blizzard, however, worked great when casted at a group. The shattering part in its description only applied after hitting a target—after which the initial bullet would shatter into shards sharp enough to wound or catch an eye. The bad part though was whether I or my allies could get caught in the crossfire. I wasn't prepared to find out just yet in the event Cure couldn't restore a gouged out eye.

The sixth floor brought new monsters called War Shadows, and these were fragile enough that I was able to punch out their face plates and keep everything nice and at bay with just Water and Madness. The scratches and slashes I took on and gritted my teeth through the blood and pain, only to be restored a moment later with a Cure or two.

Deep wounds, the sort to show open skin took more casts than a superficial scratch, but the fact that I was able to close my own injuries without issue was a boon for my own goals. The injuries were essentially undone to the point that no trace or pain was left behind. Whether it restored blood loss—which was still at a negligible amount since I wasn't feeling anywhere near lightheaded—or not, was yet to be answered.

Lefiya kicked the wall. "And now it's just not fair."

I was flying above the heads of the War Shadows and Lizards who tried jumping towards me but couldn't reach given how much vertical clearance there was available.

Picking them off one after the other with Blizzard wasn't much of a chore either.

Gareth was swatting the few monsters that strayed over to them with the shield I was supposed to be using. "This is bad for your exilia, Thomas. You won't get as much if you don't fight the monsters yourself."

"_Blizzard_!" Ice smashed against a War Shadow's head and shattered into the eyes of a nearby lizard.

"_Water_!" Two streams pushed outward, one finding the eye of a War Shadow and crushing it and the other destabilizing another.

"_Blizzard_!" The War Shadow that had fallen was crushed with another ball of ice.

"That just means I can kill _bigger_ monsters worth more while staying safe!" I flew over to the next group of monsters.

Gareth face palmed.

_That's really not how it works, Thomas._

"Why wouldn't it?"

The dwarf frowned. "What?"

_You're supposed to be an empty book Thomas, but you already have a pretty long foreword, I'd rather you don't begin a chapter with something so stupid._

It's only stupid if it doesn't work.

_You're not wrong, but you're still an ass anyway._

The remaining monsters died off to a few more Blizzards and the last one I landed on with a Madness covered hand before freezing its head in place. Okay, so about that thing earlier with games not giving monster fighting the proper gravitas it deserved, well, that one only worked when one was limited to fighting in melee.

Magic just made everything easier.

We continued onto the seventh floor after with my feet never touching the ground. Flying was just that convenient. The few pockets of people the higher floors had was non-existent here anymore, with the rare meeting very far between instances.

The newest monster to join the regular spawns was the Killer Ant. Basically a giant ant about the size of an adolescent person but if they crawled on the ground. Pretty damn big for a monster covered in hard organic armor.

And I wasn't about to risk my ass fighting against those sharp mandibles.

"_Blizzard_!" The ice ball barrelled towards the ant and bounced off its shell—shattering outwards behind it. The impact had brought it down to the ground with its back cracked, and the monster got back on its legs just fine.

"Do you want your sword and shield back?" Gareth was smiling.

"The world can still be somewhat fair." Lefiya let out a deep breath.

"I've still got one last thing up my sleeve." Thunder had yet to make an appearance.

"If you change your mind, these will be waiting right here." Gareth swatted an ant away.

I flew closer to the troop of ants to take them away from my escorts before settling to comfortable height. From what I'd figured out, I had so far four ways to activate my spells. The first was holding an image and letting the spell come out on its own, which worked for Blizzard and Water, and not with Thunder. The second was to say its trigger and activate it instantly. Madness and Cure worked with the second method and also did not with Thunder. The third was to think of the name like with Muninn, and since I hadn't been erupting into a pin cushion of lightning bolts, it clearly didn't work that way. And the last was the same way Wonder activated, which was to invoke a certain emotion—with Wonder's case being joy.

The only other method I hadn't tried yet was to trigger it with an emotion—but what kind would Thunder even feed off of?

"Gareth, what kind of emotion goes with lightning?"

The dwarf cocked his head. "Err, anger?"

I shrugged. It was worth a shot.

I closed my eyes and called to mind my anger. It was a well worn emotion I knew deeply back home. It was what fueled those discussions I couldn't escape with those idiots from audit, and the same strength I drew from when dealing with IT. And deeper the pit went. Deeper and deeper than any other emotion I had at my disposal.

I was angry I ended up in a world I never asked for. I was angry I couldn't let the people I loved know I was doing everything I can to get back.

Gooseflesh prickled my skin and made my face itch and warm. A growl escaped my lips.

I was angry I had to prove myself somehow to the gods here I was strong enough to get back if that could even help. I gnashed my teeth at the injustice, the rage bubbling up like a caustic heat from the pits of my stomach. Hands clenched tight, tighter more where I could, harder and stronger as limbs that only ever held nothing heavier than a laptop steeled over with fury.

And just like that, I fell from the air and straight to the waiting ants.

"Ohhh shit!"

"Mind down?!" Gareth shot towards me and leapt.

"_Madness_!" I burst into a plume of shadows.

The anger I'd built up was still there. There was so much to fuel my rage. Why the hell was I, a man of the modern age forced to bear arms and fight things I never even dreamed of? Why was I given the magic I dreamt of only to need it to justify my existence and claim to life here? Why did it have to be me.

Gareth swept away the ants nearest to me. "Are you… Thomas? Are you alright?"

"_I'm just, not in a good place right now_." Everything was crashing down in a great big torrent I couldn't stop or slow, I'd been hoping to keep it all bottled up elsewhere and churning and consuming itself until it passed—but to release it all at once like this wasn't as comforting or as cathartic. I wanted to just be able to let it all go. I wanted to be back home and just be alright. I wanted to nothing more than go back to being the person who didn't have to fend for his life or have no choice but to face his problems.

The ants were getting back up.

"_Gareth, could you pass me my shield at least_?"

He gave me what I asked for.

"Thomas, you're… other magic is covering you. Completely."

Both my hands were apparently encased in shadows, even the little peak of skin exposed by my pants.

"_That makes it easier, I guess_."

If Cure didn't activate on the smallest mention of the word, I might've suffered more than I cared to admit to in that little skirmish. Those ants had shit hard exoskeletons that refused to give even with a straight on blast from Blizzard, and really, me raging and throwing a childish tantrum didn't help. But the beating the monsters senseless with the edge of my shield helped at least to take a bit off the stress.

But even strong equipment had its limits.

The ants had a tendency to call on their brethren in their dying throes—and when Madness touched them, that apparently counted, since all of them started screeching at once. My entire body was covered in my shadowed magic and littered with just as many wounds. I was essentially casting cure over and over again for however many minutes it took to clear the horde that overtook me, and more than once I found Gareth or Lefiya coming by to check if I was still alive.

I was bloodied and bruised everywhere, but even those disappeared as soon as I casted enough Cures to refresh me. My limbs burned on though. The magic took care of the injuries but did nothing for the fatigue. Where my limbs burned from the anearobic reaction, the magic at least helped the pain, but it didn't alleviate the heaviness.

I was slowing down and straining myself too far.

And still the ants kept calling in more of their friends. I resorted to casting Water more than Blizzard just to keep them away long enough for me to get to the next ant and bash its face in with the edge of my shield.

I wasn't able to send any flying, but with such a heavy thing concentrated against their faces, the effects were undeniable.

Shove, push, cast Water, cast Cure, cast Cure cast Water. There was no fixed sequence, only the next need or the most efficient one needed. I was healing myself less and less the more of them fell, and with the weight of my shield, the mess of bodies, mandibles, and claws eventually thinned and died out.

The last ant's head finally caved in after so long.

I rolled over onto my back that was so soaked I couldn't even tell if it was my blood or the ants' or my own sweat. Hopefully Cure also took care of any infections, because whatever it was that had been touching my wounds at the time before my healing got to them would easily put my life in danger.

"_Madness_." The shadows enshrouding my body receded.

A pair of boots siddled up next to my ass. Gareth extended a hand. "You're still up?"

"I did say I refuse to die, right?"


	6. Volume 1 Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Thomas

Just how much longer did I need to keep doing this?

"_Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard_." Three balls of ice flew one after the other towards the group of Killer Ants barring my way.

The projectiles hit with enough force to crack their shells but the shards after were too weak to do anything, it did, however, destroy the wings of the Purple Moths accompanying them. The eighth floor was the first floor to produce flying enemies with the poison powder spreading Purple Moths, basically Venomoths. Breathing in the powder was like bathing in bleach fumes after someone just finished cleaning the toilets. It burned all the way in and stayed there eventually eating people from the inside out, but with Cure even that could be managed.

"You can also take care of the poison?!" Lefiya was leaning against the walls and kicking against the monster parts scattered about.

That was another thing we'd essentially given up on. I was killing monsters fast enough and moving on without too much of a hitch that stopping just to get the crystals was too much effort. Sure, I was supposed to earn my keep, but Gareth said he'll just give me some money for now. I'd already earned as much, and it was only his lack of foresight that we didn't hire a supporter—since who even bothered considering a freshly minted level one would just plow straight through the floors all the while casting magic like it's nobody's business and just making a mess of things?

I'd already lost count of how many times I'd used my spells. Power flowed like lines of ice through my limbs, it welled from within and exploded out my hands with each spell. "_Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard_!"

As someone who could fly and avoid the need to get down and dirty, I had the option to just spam my spells from a distance.

Jagged ice cannon balls flew one after the other without rhyme or reason, pelting and crushing and cracking at the monsters. The lead ant had its head caved in after however many casts. One Purple Moth took a ball with its entire body and exploded to bits of flesh and wing when the projectile shattered. Another ant had half its legs destroyed, and another moth's wings got clipped and subsequently crushed with the next spell.

More and more ice filled the hallway in front and it made it more difficult for the monsters to advance by just a tiny bit.

But that didn't stop the Purple Moths from approaching me anyway.

I reached out with a shadowed hand and brushed against the wing of the nearest pest. It flew into the wall and dropped to the ground only to be crushed by the onslaught of ants.

It was official. Killer Ants were the worst.

Blizzard lacked the punch needed to kill the ants in one go thanks to their hardened armor, and Water didn't do shit besides push them back—but not enough to smash them against the walls like with the Goblins or deal damage like with the War Shadows. Using Blizzard after Water didn't work with freezing the things in place either so that combo was out. Maybe if Thunder was useable there could've been a chance with electrocuting the beasts, but tough luck there. On the plus side, flying was still great. Although Wonder needed an emotional state kept up to continue its use after trying—and finding out Madness was empowered by—anger for a change.

Other emotional states didn't contribute to my other magics though. None of my spells reacted to sadness and fear, or any other more complex emotion I could think of at the time. Annoyance, jealousy, homesickness, excitement, none of them worked, even horniness. Which was, all things considered, a kindness on its own. Still, it didn't take two brain cells to figure out this trend of successively tougher and tougher monsters would continue onto the next floors deeper. How would I then fare if my output couldn't keep up?

Still, quantity was a quality of its own.

Lefiya was clutching her head. "Why aren't you still reaching a Mind Down!?"

"_Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard_!"

Faster and faster the magic kept coming, the trigger words seeming to blend into one another in succession. More and more ice balls barrelled towards the monsters in cascading waves and stuttered continuity. Ice battered and shattered against their bodies. The ants were too hard but with enough casts, even they eventually fell. Ice and shards and monster parts scattered everywhere. The dull beating of weight against weight and the flat breaking of thick ice filled the air with an uninspiring monotonous din against the chittering of the ants. Variety wouldn't have improved anything anyway.

Hitting these bastards with Madness only made them call on their friends—not that they weren't already doing so now, but risking melee when one was perfectly capable of cheesing the fight was the folly of chivalry and heroism.

And there was a fine line between bravery and stupidity.

"_Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard_!"

More ice, more monsters dead, plus some swatting of Purple Moths too close with Madness.

I really needed to find the trigger for Thunder soon. Figuring out how to make Madness cover my entire person was still a pretty good achievement, all things considered. It helped divert the aggression of monsters, but it wasn't going to work for the best every time like with the ants. If it ended up causing some already strong monster to enter into a frenzy then it wouldn't be as funny. And it would be bad form to die to the effects of my own magic.

Lefiya swung her staff at an ant and cleaved its head right off. "Thomas, your ice spells are too weak on their own."

"Thank you for pointing it out, I never would have noticed."

"She's just trying to help your sorry ass, Thomas."

"Thank you Mister Gareth, now have you tried infusing more Mind into your spell before releasing it?"

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

Lefiya's status as a level three showed in the nonchalant way she snuffed the annoyances crawling up to her. "You should already feel the pull of your spells, like a flow of power or some sort, you only need to push harder."

"Ah." She meant _that_, then. The fuck up from trying to cast Thunder earlier resurfaced, and it wasn't a pleasant memory.

Nor was dangling in the air with cold feet. Electricity I could deal with easy should it invade my body. It was pure energy and it caused damaged without physically conjuring anything, but if Water or Blizzard ended up inside me… Just thinking of the injuries it could cause was, disheartening. The worst might be blowing up a hand from the inside? But then didn't the spell create the water or ice outside of me? So why the hell did Thunder go rampant anyway? And could Cure take care of the unlikely explosion of flesh?

"If I lose a hand, do you guys have a way of regrowing it?"

"What kind of magic are you planning to unleash?" Gareth picked up an ant and swung it to sweep the rest and push them all back towards my area. "But yes, we have high elixirs in the mansion if it gets that bad."

"It will be fine as long as you don't lose control of your magic power." Lefiya scratched her head. "Just don't mind what happened earlier."

"This is horrible advice, Lefiya."

The elf shook her head. "You already know how to use your magic anyway, all that's left now is to control the input of Mind and direct the strengthened output."

She was a proper mage who'd already reached level three, of course she'd know how to do just that.

"_Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard, Blizzard_!"

The remaining Purple Moths all died to the ice. Having to deal with their poison was not gonna help.

"Concentrate on finding the flow!"

"I'll try, but make sure to take care of me if I do it wrong."

"Again, you'll be just fine."

I took my place further away from the troop of ants.

After invoking Blizzard so many times and in quick succession, the feeling was still fresh in my mind. The image of ice and power and the sensation of the flow from the depths and snaking its way out. From what Lefiya said, it was all a matter of eking out a stronger flow somehow. So, what if instead of letting the word come out, I held onto it instead?

It was worth a try.

I called on the image of ice, the same images I'd been calling on, the bitter chill and the harsh winter, the silent death and the frozen paradise. It came faster now, the word. But I kept it at the tip of my tongue. And then, I pushed the image further.

It was the age of ice and darkness, the unforgiving eternity of a millenia of nothing but cold and snow, the same winter the precursors of my people had endured and conquered and paid so dear a price to survive.

The word returned with a vengeance, it raved behind my teeth and clawed against my throat. It was a manic need. The flow was strongest whenever the word had made its way forward, more so when it jumped and raged, it was like a muscle taut and ready, like a spring waiting to snap.

But just how far could it be taken?

The flow was connected from the depths all the way to my hand outstretched. It was a line unbroken and burning with a high note of bracing cold. Image bore truth, and thought breathed with power.

Could I pull more? Should I push more? Was it safe? How badly did I want to see just what it meant when it said I had unlocked the very depths of Magic? And what if I took it even further than that? Ever grander and more absurd? Why not go bigger? So much bigger, crazier, far far stronger and beyond the limits of human scale.

What would a magic pulled from the edges of imagination and understanding look like?

Why not reach outwards to the cosmos and take the image of a comet bright and burning and hurtling at speeds much too fast to fathom made entirely of ice. A comet that had broken off from a nebula of water as ancient as the very Earth itself and far more vast and unending? Why not picture the comet parting the heavens and striking my foe with unparalleled violence that would rock the planet to the core?

But the burning need of the word to come had all but hushed. It was the sudden stop of a string held down, the abrupt halt of a single clap and the unexpected end of a chapter amidst a rising act. The word no longer reached or hissed, but it was there all the same. Simple, and clean. It lingered but did not push, it thrummed but did not rise, it was a silence, and perhaps a warning.

The word did not jump from my throat, nor did it dance behind my teeth, the word walked with a grace unbefitting of the unbridled rage of the image that fueled it. It waited for my lips to open, and held its breath at the tip of my tongue.

"_Blizzara_."

The world erupted into blinding white.

Then the tangle of ants exploded from where the missile of ice impacted and shattered and froze them over.

Then the monsters promptly turned themselves over and continued to approach.

"You did it Thomas!"

I fell out of the air and landed next to them.

Lefiya pointed at the lead ant whose decapitated and broken head was still chattering but somewhat frozen over. Its buddies whose legs were covered in frost found some difficulty moving, but they moved all the same. "It just needs to be stronger next time."

Gareth raised a brow before offering my sword and shield. "You want to go melee?"

I frowned. "I wasn't planning on stopping from flying."

The dwarf knit his brows. "Then why bother?"

"Must be a side effect of what I did." I raised my hand and called on the image again, but the word never came. "Huh, weird… Madness."

Nothing happened. And Madness always triggered with the word.

"Cure?" Muninn? Loki?

Lefiya took a step back, the ants were just eight or so feet away now. "Shouldn't you be taking care of the ants already?"

None of my spells worked. And since the only thing that changed was that spell I last cast, then there were really only a few explanations. One, it was a cool down from using magic stronger than I could, two, it was a status effect from the same cause, or three, I ran out of mana. "Do you guys have a magic potion? I think I ran out of mana."

"Mana's only for the spirits, Thomas. Mages like you and Lefiya use mind."

"Oh, then I ran out of mind, don't you guys have a potion for that?

Lefiya's jaw dropped.

Gareth shook his head. He then fished something out of his pouch and passed it to me, a corked vial filled with a glowing blue liquid. "She'll be fine, I think."

I opened the package and downed the contents, it was bitter and pungent while leaving a pervading grit against the teeth and had the consistency of snot down the throat. Swallowing was the hardest part. "That was awful."

"It is."

The dwarf nudged our elven companion.

"I… just need some time to myself." Lefiya straightened herself out but she was still clutching her staff real tight.

"_Madness_." My arm burst into shadows. "There we go, back to normal."

Lefiya kicked the nearest wall and cracked the stones with her pretty shoe. She started jumping about holding onto it a moment later.

Gareth presented my weapons anyway. "You should really start getting used to a weapon."

He kept his hold on the sword.

"But we don't use our shields to stab things, yes?"

I rolled my eyes at him.

#

All things considered, reaching the ninth floor wasn't bad at all for a first try.

Fuck not flying and those needle rabbits though.

Gareth was instructing me how to fight against groups of monsters when one of the hellspawn ran my leg through with its horn. I was screaming and on my ass for a good few seconds before I had the inspiration to pull the critter out myself. It wasn't easy, and I bled out everywhere, but at least Cure closed that wound up after a few casts, so that was nice.

It wasn't enough to put me out for the count.

"You have to stab the ants between the plates!"

"_I'm trying dammit_!" Even with Madness coating my entire body, it still left my shield and sword out. I bashed the head of the nearest ant with my shield and stepped back. On and on the damned things called for more. "_Water, Water, Water, Water, Water_."

Torrent after torrent of water appeared from the air and swirled with me in the center. Wisps crashed into the ants and pushed them back enough to open space between us while the moths too weak to resist were crushed when three or more of the waves crashed into them. The too nimble rabbits were the bigger problem with their agility.

"Don't let them flank you!"

"_Water, Water, Water, Water, Water_." The veil of water protecting me was replenished with a flurry of wisps, and with it the nearest monsters were pushed back and could not approach as long as the veil held.

Maybe if I tried casting the next level spell then things might change, but given how a simple Blizzara drained me after, it didn't seem like a good idea unless done in a controlled environment. As a better take away, there existed a second level to my spells. And judging by the progression, there ought to be Blizzaga somewhere down the line. Meaning there would also be a Waterga, or was it gonna be Watega? Then Curaga, and Thundaga. Err, Madnega? Was that gonna happen? And what about Wonder and Muninn? Were they going to upgrade as well?

More and more questions, really.

Ants and moths both couldn't encroach any closer than a few feet lest they suffer a face or thorax full of water, but the rabbits wove about well enough that I had to eat wounds to my legs every few spawns. The unending hoard of ants provided a veritable wall of distraction for the faster beasts, but with Madness, the rabbits were at least rendered raving mad and jumping aimlessly. But the damage was still done.

"_Cure, Cure, Cure._"

Dripping blood dried and open wounds knitted together, it left the pain unfiltered but that was but a small distraction in the sea of ire I wallowed in. Rage and magic sustained my tantrum. My shield was a wall crashing down on the unsuspecting while my sword… well, stabbed at things close enough. And missed most of the time.

"It defeats the point if you'll just tank the damage, Thomas. Weren't you supposed to be a mage?"

"_Bah! Dodging is a waste of time_." Another rabbit nicked my calf, but the thing slipped on the water. I stomped it into a mess of guts.

"As a mage, this is very difficult to watch."

"And you think not being one makes it easier?"

The two of them could afford fighting smarter after spending so much time immersed in their tactics and experience, but I didn't have any of that. The most I had was my magic and my anger, and I needed to get used to fighting as soon as I could. The fastest way to that was to first eliminate any hesitation from getting hurt. A single missed step or chance could spell an injury too deep to heal—or even a one hit kill. With Cure, healing wasn't a problem as long as my magic or my mouth held out, and with what I'd observed so far that wasn't going to happen barring a few special circumstances.

Good quality exilia was needed for increasing basic abilities and eventually levelling up according to Loki. The best way to do that was to take risks and push oneself to the limits. Resolution and grit, was my answer to the experience and finesse of my peers. Take one to give twice or thrice or even more, never letting the enemy any time to recover. What was the point of my magic if I wasn't going to abuse it anyway?

But really, that only applied when I'm on the ground. In the air, fuck that. Cast all the spells! But even so early into things I could already feel the limits of my magic. Increasing my magic ability should help with the power output, and I was still running on zeroes, so things were bound to change one way or another on my next update.

Another rabbit dashed through and clipped me in the leg.

"_I hate these rabbits so much!_"

We then called it a day after another three waves of monsters since a combination of the fast piercing little buggers together with the hard to kill ants made life a living hell from getting wounded so much. As promising as my healing spell was, it still didn't restore any lost blood. After closing the umpteenth hole and going through however many hours of non-stop monster after monster, I was wheezing and dizzy and caked to the brim with dried blood and dust by the end of it all.

A good discovery though was how health potions, yes, they really were called those, actually restored lost flesh and blood. So I didn't have to be carted out of the Dungeon from passing out.

But the haunting flavor stuck at the back of my throat burned like a bitch. "Why do these have to taste so horrible?!"

Gareth smirked. "These things aren't made of sugar rocks and cake, Thomas. You wouldn't even want to know what goes into making these, trust me." He shook his head, eyes wide and unblinking.

Lefiya shuddered. "Even now I can't imagine such a sweet lady like Amid touching those kinds of things…"

I was crouched down by the pile of corpses, a mixture of dog-sized ants and rabbits, and the occasional cat-sized moth. I stabbed into the middle of the first body as instructed and carved it wider until I got to the shiny center within.

The shard had a pinkish hue against the eerie violet glow of the crystals embedded in the walls. It was smaller than expected.

"Weren't the things floating within the lights bigger than these?"

Gareth pinched the shard from my fingers. "These pebbles are only good for grinding up into flux for the smiths. If you want to see the same size stones in the lights we'll need to go to around the eleventh floor for those."

As soon as I removed the stone, the corpse disintegrated into ash including the blood staining my hands and weapon. The blood staining my clothes though, those were mostly mine.

Not to waste an opportunity though, I also tried casting Watera and got a much bigger wisp of water and three swirling swells. If before it was like having two mugs' worth of water per cast, this one was more like having three pitchers' worth. An obvious improvement like Blizzara to the spells I was using, but for the life of me stopped me from casting anything else

I finished up the rest of the corpses and we made our way back up the Dungeon and headed straight for the Guild. It was already night by the time we exited, and yet Orario didn't look the part. Lights everywhere bathed the eclectic architecture of what can only be called neo-medieval magepunk, and the people didn't look any less energetic than they did in the morning.

It was the same energy in the bigger cities, even livelier than Tulley on a Saturday night.

With a bag of magic stones, I entered the Guild together with Gareth and Lefiya. Curious looks from customers and concerned employees surrounded me when we entered, and whether it was from my disheveled state or the prestige of being part of Loki's lot, I got bumped up to the front of the Exchange one way or another. I got around eight-thousand and some change for my trouble but didn't know much about the worth of the stuff, though the few ant shells and moth wings helped offset my earnings.

Before I left, the clerk also mentioned how something similar happened yesterday with a kid covered in fresh blood.

I told him red was in these last few days but the guy didn't get the joke. Maybe it just didn't translate right to their language. My communication skill didn't exactly make me hear or read things any different from English.

Lefiya was nice enough to take me to some stores on the way back to pick up some essentials like underwear, pants, socks, boots, and shirts, and to be fair, the quality didn't differ that much to things I might find at a Uniqlo. Doing all that emptied out the purse I'd earned all day, but a shopping spree never failed to put a smile on anyone's face. And whoever said money can't buy happiness clearly didn't know where to shop.

We made our way back home after that.

And I had a long and drawn out shower before joining one of the tables in the dining area for a simple dinner.

It was a simple affair with some stewed meats and fresh baked breads and a few greens, and the family was more than friendly enough this time around. The few all guy tables welcomed me with a little wariness, and I got to know a few of them better after the fact.

The dwarves in particular were the friendliest of the bunch, especially the Ironhand brothers Daffyd, Cadoc, and Brynmor, all level fours. They were one of the first to join the familia together with some other level fours like Raul Nord, a human; Anakity Autumn, a cat person; Arcs Veros, a runarl; and Narvi Estur, another human. There were more names but far too many to remember in one night.

Ale and stories were exchanged, and more than a few had their funny moments in their death-defying day jobs, like that time Cadoc accidentally fell all the way from the twenty-fourth floor down to the twenty-seventh with his brothers having to fellow behind him. Or another time during one of their expeditions when Raul, Rakta, and Anakity had to share a tent because Raul's burned down from their encounter with a tinier than usual Flame Golems in one of the thirty something floors. That got a lot of jeers from the rowdy rabble, and the two girls in question were beet red, Raul too.

The night winded down to some singing, some jokes, and a rather scandalizing interrogation about last night when I helped carry Riine home.

"He's not bad." Riine, all cool and nonchalant ate her cake without a care.

That got people jeering more than the concession.

Then Loki dropped by and stood on one of the tables, but no one missed a beat with the small talk and everything else in between.

"Anyone who wants a status update I'll be waiting in my room. Thomas, you're up."

And just like that our goddess left.

Then another round of jeering went around teasing me with the prick.

#

Thomas Sedley

Level 1

Strength I 40

Endurance I 67

Dexterity I 21

Agility I 14

Magic H 105

Black I

Einharjar I

Spark I

Magic

Madness - Enfeebles, maddens, and corrodes targets.

Muninn - Two-way communication with a patron

Wonder - Grants flight

Cure - Heals wounds and damage but does not restore stamina.

Water - Creates a swirling barrier of water that rends.

Blizzard - Shoots a jagged bullet of ice that shatters.

Thunder - Shoots a piercing bolt of electricity that expands.

Skill

Messenger - Automatically translates written and verbal information to some understandable form to the wielder.

Berserker - Heavily increases all abilities when near death.

Arcana - Unlocks the very depths of Magic.

Loki updated my status that night and gave me the results in another sheet of paper.

We also discussed our findings with the other big wigs in Finn's study after. Everything from how the spells triggered to how little mana—or mind as they called it here—it consumed and even some of the lesser quirks like Blizzard somehow originating from my hand instead of appearing from thin air like it felt, or Madness needing an emotional trigger to spread to my body, even my ability to cast a second level to my magic separate from the triggers shown in my status. It didn't need mentioning the implication of a third level with the _ga_ spells, because one, poor Lefiya might not be able to take it anymore; and two, I needed my own trump cards too.

The bigger part was still all the spells being the instant cast types, especially the totally broken instant heal that could be spammed with little regard for anything. Though Thunder remaining a mystery was a low point since it seemed to promise a more intense attack than any from my line-up. But the lack of progress wasn't due to any lack of effort.

Be it with the image, word, or thought triggers, none worked so there were only two possibilities left, first was it ran on an emotion I've yet to associate with the spell, and the other was it needed a different trigger, maybe its own rule or a combination of them. Madness had already displayed this behavior with having a word needed to initiate the magic while the emotion was needed to increase its effectiveness. So perhaps it needed a bigger trigger of sorts?

Either way, that first dive allowed us some insight into my abilities as expected.

"The next step then is to get you up to speed and better equipped." Loki slung her arm over my shoulder.

We were still in Finn's study together with the big three and a sulking Lefiya. She had been rather passionate with recounting what happened earlier and was clinging onto Riveria, but now that she was all pooped out she looked more like a child after a tantrum. Riveria and Gareth took the seat either side of the pallum while Loki sat with me by the windows.

The view of Orario at night was a familiar sight, lights as far as the eye could see though lower than I remembered. There weren't any billboards or high rises, but the sprawl of street lamps and moving lights—carriages perhaps—was a comfort I didn't know I wanted.

"Still, I'm more surprised at just how much magic Thomas can use before running out." Finn couldn't help cringeing when his eyes went over the poor girl. "I'd like you to find out how fast and how much water you can produce before needing a potion, depending on the costs between feeding you potions and our own efforts with bringing supplies, we might be able to completely do away with water."

Gareth was stroking his beard. "Indeed, it would save us a lot of time on the way down. But we should first see if there are no ill effects to drinking something made with magic."

Riveria raised a brow. "Using Thomas for his utility is good, but I'm more curious on whether he can be developed into a back-line mage. Someone who can stay up after using up all his magic won't need too much time between large spells."

"Err, you guys do know I'm right here?" It was somewhat flattering to be given this much praise, at least it somewhat sounded like praise. But to be relegated as portable artillery or a water tank just didn't give off that feeling of adventure. I mean, I ended up in a world of magic and monsters and these guys were talking about boring crap like accounting for the family's expenses and general administrative crap from the Guild.

That was how we found Finn earlier, nose deep into the family's books and pushing the numbers around to make sense of the craziness that was spending and earning in the hundreds of millions per expedition. High risk high reward, a familiar concept. I spoke the same language, just not in the context of physical labor and possible harm to life and limb.

Lefiya groaned.

"Don't worry Thomas." Loki waved lazily. "All this use of magic you're doing will have you improving through the roof in no time, the higher your magic stat the better your chances are of developing anything new too."

Finn chuckled. "With how much use we're gonna get out of you, I'm almost afraid to think what's waiting for us next now."

That right there was a flag no one needed triggering. "Dude, it's bad form to say stuff like that. Let's not jinx anything if we can help it, yeah?"

Loki pursed her lips. "Tom, you just haven't been down the Dungeon long enough. Thing is, that place is essentially a cesspool of jinxes, bad luck, and all things unpleasant. It's even alive, essentially. And pretty malicious too."

"Then why the fuck are we going down there like it's a freakin' adventure park?"

"Mortals, duh." Loki was all smug. "Blessing or not, it didn't stop anyone before from venturing down there. Might as well help you guys out in the process, right?"

Finn cleared his throat. "Thomas, from what we'd seen of your abilities, I think it's a worthy investment to get you something to help boost your magic?"

"You mean I get a sweet staff like Lefiya does?"

"I don't know about making it edible…"

Loki knocked her head against the window sill. "That meant good. A good magic staff."

Finn pursed his lips. "Right… Riveria will go with you tomorrow somewhere to set something up. If we're lucky we'll have it in time for the expedition, and if not then there's always getting those discounted magic potions."

Gareth met my eyes. "We should also have you practice with some other weapons besides your magic. Having someone who can heal on the front lines will be a necessity if we'll be dealing with those new species again."

"Wouldn't a healer be better left somewhere far and safe?"

The dwarf had a glint in his eye. "Not if you'll be going down with _us_. _Nowhere_ is safe when you're below the fifty-second floor."

"Wait… what."

"You've seen what your own magic can do, you can heal yourself almost endlessly. Just that makes you someone worth starting a war with another familia for. Running out of potions so far down the Dungeon is a death sentence. Add the possibility of you flying someone with you, then it's all the more reason to keep you by us executives' sides. If I need to carry you in a bag myself, I'd do so without hesitation."

"Shit."

"To be honest, Tom." Loki ruffled my hair. "You're actually like this really nice camping tool slash portable med bay. You can fly maybe one or two people, we'll need to figure that out though. And then heal without having to chant, provide water, ice even, whenever on demand, and your own skills make you hard to kill if Berserker does what I think it does."

Loki smiled, her teeth all bared. "And with that, there's something I've been wanting to do for a while now but never had the chance to since anyone else would die."

"…fuck."

#

I needed to get away.

When we went back to our rooms, I didn't waste any time with packing everything I owned into my bag.

Anything I didn't need I'd leave behind. That one pack of tissues, a few papers I printed out, my now ill-fitting suit too small for my new body, anything I couldn't make immediate use of or maybe sell or use to prove my identity I crammed into my dressers. Everything I was gonna bring needed to have a purpose, especially the things needed to make a case of me coming from another world. It was clear the gods knew something, so I either found myself a god who actually cared and was strong enough to keep Loki at bay or I just avoided Orario completely.

I could fly near indefinitely, that had to count for something. And with Madness and Blizzard, hunting shouldn't be a problem if I had to stake it out in the woods. It would've been better if I had access to a fire spell, but I'd just have to make do.

Anything else would be better than risking my neck in a fool's errand. Getting back home was the least of my worries if I died here and now. Resolve was only good if I had any chance of coming back, but to run myself ragged with one foot in the grave was nothing short of stupid. Pushing myself to the limit and overcoming boundaries, sure, but not like this.

I slung my bag over my back but that spark of joy was nowhere to be found.

Not with my heart so out of sorts. It was beating so loud in my chest together with the thumping of blood against my ears. My stomach twitched with each beat, and the heat was ever present against my neck and face. My hands were shaking and damp. Call a spade a spade, but I wasn't anywhere near ready to go further than where I could reach on my own. I'd only been here like three goddamn days, and now I found myself at a crossroad.

Did I stay or go?

Fuck needing joy to fly. How the fuck was I gonna keep myself happy if I was too busy trying not to die? Healing was only good if I survived the first hit—but given the things even Gareth was afraid of, enough to risk his neck with protecting tissue paper in the middle of a toilet mid-flush… well, that was the sort of thing you should never stick around for.

I took a deep breath.

Once.

Twice.

Each exhale slower than the last.

And yet my heart raged on.

I was afraid. My magic was ineffective and already so worthless at just the ninth floor and those bastards were talking about going as far below as _fifty_?! It would've been fine if I had the confidence to keep myself alive should push come to shove, but the few times I hit outside my weight limit and my magic was rendered useless. It was suicide to go along with everything they said, and I wasn't going to risk my neck for something too uncertain.

The numbers spoke for themselves, my status had an obvious increase from zero straight to a hundred, but it meant nothing to the very real threat of death.

The room was spinning and I couldn't see straight. I couldn't breathe and still I stayed standing in front of my mirror. "_Cure_."

Green light washed over me but it did nothing for the bile rising or my vision swimming. It was wishful thinking to have such a simple answer to this predicament, but it was just my luck. Teeth gnashed together screeching. Frustration escaped with a gutteral growl. I couldn't even fight my way out of this den of monsters if I wanted to. But I wasn't going to get to anywhere tonight.

Not like this.

There was some fight in me, enough to risk a wound or grit my teeth and bleed. But to actually stick my neck out and hope the blade didn't fall where it mattered… I wasn't that crazy. Right now all I could do was go with wherever the river was taking me. But it led straight to a straight plunge down with the end nowhere in sight. How horrible were the things that awaited in the depths? What price would I need to pay to descend? And what was I to lose in trying to escape?

I was always helpless, even back home. But at least there it was the comfortable indolence born from not needing to come to peace with the end every damn day. It was only a matter of time here. And a month was far too short a time. Could I opt out of the expedition they were planning? Perhaps. Loki might not be too unreasonable, but if they forced me to go then did I have the power to assert my own choice?

Did I dare to ask? Did I dare to bring up my doubts?

I buried my face into the pillows and howled.

Where did I stand with Loki?

She knew I wasn't from here, but I could never look at our meeting as a kindness. It was abduction and coercion, plain and simple. But she had taken some effort to making that line less so, and yet the divide remained no matter how thin the line was against the sand. Was she a friend? Or was she my jailor? I hadn't forgotten how they all reacted when I first got my falna, it wasn't just caution but outright apprehension with every little move, as if I were more dangerous than I had any right to be. I wasn't. I just had a few more tricks up my sleeve, but that was it.

The knot in my chest twisted as the doubts piled one after the other. It was a sting in the corner of my eye and a heat behind my temples. It was one thing to think oneself helpless, and another to have the reality of it come crashing down around me. Even the bitter burning lacerations, scratches, and stab wounds were more bearable than this.

I was only human.

And so very, very afraid.


	7. Volume 1 Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Thomas

It was another sleepless night.

In bed but not asleep, still but not at rest. A thousand scenes played out with every turn of thought, each made up word or action branching other branches and leading all manners of outcomes, some good, mostly bad. It was an exercise in frustration trying to predict how Loki or the others would react. There were honest wishes and pipe dreams mixed in with the rollercoasters of madness and drama, a veritable exploration of the full range and breadth of just how much one might be their own worst enemy.

But at the root of all that was a terrible lack of information. How big was the board and how many pieces were there? None of those were clear.

And yet that didn't stop me from thinking anyway.

It plagued me throughout the long night until the first shades of dawn dispelled the looming dark. Had it been someone else, perhaps they might've simply taken it all as it was, to live life as it arrived one day at a time. And perhaps in another life that could've been me, burdened but unbroken, desperate but still driven.

But that wasn't reality.

No matter how much someone might laud the truth of despair simply being a perception, that sort of callousness was one that could only hail from a life already far removed from the need for survival.

After all, despair only haunted those who clung to living.

I'd put my bag away sometime between the tossing and turning, only to later lay out and fully surrender to the throes of my emotions.

I was helpless when I arrived, then I found myself surrounded by monsters and under the watchful eye of some twisted god. And somehow I received a sliver of power from the circumstances that thrust me into this hell and brandished it in some malicious hole of death and mystery. And now I was in a bed and enjoying comforts not too far from where I had come from. I did not want for food nor shelter. I was cared for and protected, hailed as a treasured prize.

They wished to use me, and I was indeed useful if they were to be believed. Logistics was always going to be a problem for any large scale operation, especially for those involving more people than there were giving orders. The threat of utter chaos grew with the size of an organization, and if someone came along with a sizeable offering to help lessen the burden, then it was a worthy investment regardless. Eighty percent of all problems came with the last twenty percent of causes, that was something Nikita never failed to drill into our heads.

Perhaps forgiveness was too much right now, but only a fool would deny the opportunities Loki presented.

Her family wished to take me with them promising protection, and even offered a way to better my magic. It was a waste to run from that now. In the first place, that I can fly and that I hadn't been expressly forbidden from doing so was never because of Loki's orders but because of my own pessimistic caution. Implying the wrong idea was never a good idea after all.

I wasn't about to start trusting them now, but that didn't mean we had to be enemies at the moment.

After breakfast, I was called on for the errand of the day.

Gareth, Riveria, Lefiya, and I were on our way to this shop the two magic users frequented, and it didn't exactly have the makings of something too welcoming with how many alleyways we wove through so far. Each turn and corner brought us further and further from the main thoroughfares, the people thinning more and the din of daily life weakening with each step.

None of the people with me looked bothered though, and it helped to hammer home just how unreliable my flight was. Rage was easy enough to muster, but joy was harder to find in the middle of a panic. I had better chances with making a stand with Madness and fighting onward than I did with flying away given short notice.

The dwarf cleared his throat. "I'm glad you're getting along with the others better now."

They weren't bad people, and it was nice to learn what a normal conversation was like over here. "I woke up too early, and besides, if I'm gonna need to trust these people to watch my back later on then I better get started earlier."

Breakfast was essentially a bunch of gossips fawning over the latest happenings with their fellow maidens and the few men they demeed _okay_. There were some openly talking, and also those who preferred to speak in hushed embarassment. And apparently a certain elf harbored a rather obvious crush with a listless blonde, and how more than few young ladies fancied the middle-aged captain. There was even a rumor about a certain glasses-wearing girl liking the biggest asshole in the family.

That was a hot mess of crap I didn't want any part in.

"We were worried you'd prefer to be alone." Riveria mumbled a name after I didn't quite catch. "That girl gives me no end to my troubles, I swear."

Lefiya smiled wryly. "Miss Aiz can indeed be difficult at times to understand…"

"I'll go crazy if I don't at least try and talk to people."

"Good to hear, lad. Good to hear. The talking part, not the going crazy one."

We passed a few more twists and turns, the many smaller eateries we passed eventually numbering less and less until bookstores and other odd trinkets now dotted the walls. There were shops displaying the odd assortment of crystals or pickled animal parts and more than a few random assortments of nails, feathers, and dried things.

"These are mostly potions ingredients." Lefiya gestured at the wide array of not so pleasant looking goods. "Most of them come from the Dungeon's plants or monsters."

"Oh. Hence the taste."

"Aye, Thomas." Gareth pinched the bridge of his nose.

Even less people roamed by now to the point that the only other time we saw even a hint of another living being was in the occasional pair of shifting eyes from a too dark window or barely open door. After another round of lefts, rights, and even the occasional underpass and throughput, we then found ourselves in front of a stair case with a little wooden sign that said: Witch's Secret House. There was an argument just waiting to come out, but given the trouble of just finding this place, it wasn't that inaccurate of a brand.

Gareth opted to wait outside while the three of us entered the dust-ridden and crackling front door.

A bell tinkled behind me as an overpowering smell of ancient dust welcomed me in.

"Lenoa," Riveria called out, "we're here for a new order."

Bookshelves lined one side of the store while the other side had more of those little shelves of monster parts and potion stuffs. There were more than a few crystals on display too, and some of them going larger than a fist and not a single one in the same hue or shade. Three shades of blue and maybe another seven of purple and many more that of red, yellow, green, and everything else in between decorated every nook and cranny.

The more surprising part were the zeroes attached to the many tags. Things in the realm of a few hundred thousand Valis were the norm, but seeing something going for a million or two wasn't that difficult either.

"Is that you Nine Hell?" Echoed a muffled cry.

Something crashed somewhere further back before an old lady dressed in stereotypical witch's garb walked in from another door by the corner. She had the black robes and black pointed hat down including the long crooked nose, and she was rather small too, barely reaching up to my chin. Though more likely because she was hunched over. The lady Riveria called Lenoa looked as ancient as the ambiance of her store.

At least the sign stayed true to form.

The old lady was scowling. "Please don't tell me you broke those spell stones again…"

Riveria chuckled. "That's not the only reason I go to you for."

"And I suppose Thousand Elf here broke hers?" The old lady almost spat. "That forest's teardrop wasn't a joke, you hear me! If anything happened to that I swear—"

That's when our eyes met.

"Lenoa, meet Thomas. Thomas, this is Lenoa." Riveria had a small smile playing along her lips.

Lenoa walked up to me with hurried steps and squinted eyes. She took my face with her hands. "What the… what's wrong with this kid?"

Riveria shook her head. "I was hoping you might know more."

I broke away from the witch's grip. "Here we are again with the cryptic code words, can't you guys just say it out loud? It's not like anyone's here to hear us anyway."

The two women exchanged tired looks.

Lenoa took to patting down my body and fiddling with my hair. Knowing better than to interrupt a cut scene, I let it happen either way. "Nine Hell, just how new is this Thomas of yours again?"

"Very new."

"Boy, you have no idea how levels work at all, do you?"

"Not a single clue, no." The most I knew was it increased one's useable strength. Loki likened it to a plant outgrowing its pot, and that from there it would then receive a bigger pot to grow into. The plant was the adventurer, the pot was the body, and the gardener doing the moving was the status conferring a sort of upgrade. Given this though, it implied some other benefits to just getting stronger.

The old lady cocked her head. "At least he's honest."

Riveria shrugged.

I wasn't about to argue for something I hadn't the slightest clue on.

Only then did the old lady stop touching me all over. "Never mind then, so, I suppose he's the reason for this new order?"

"He is. And what we need is something to increase the power of his spells and allow him to better direct his magic."

Lenoa took my hand in hers and lifted it. She then proceeded to poke around my palm. She pulled my sleeves up and did the same poking about up to my forearm before putting her hand in through the other hole of my shirt and poking about my shoulder. As ancient as she was, the strength behind those wrinkled hands was undeniable.

She raised a brow. "Off with the shirt."

Having an old lady touch me all over wasn't my idea of a good morning, but I took it off as instructed anyway. It was for a proper staff, and if it helped like Riveria said it would then a little bit of dignity was a small price to pay.

Lenoa narrowed her eyes and hummed. Then she traced a line with her finger from my palm all the way up my arm, through my shoulder, and down to my chest. She frowned then went back to my hand, but this time instead of a finger, she pressed her entire palm against my skin, going so far as to basically caress every damn inch of it all the way up from my finger tips down to my belly.

Double standards would've had me blushing if it had been Riveria or Lefiya doing this.

"This brat…" Lenoa met Riveria's eyes. "Is it true?"

"Everywhere indeed, yes."

"L-lady Riveria?!" All this while, Lefiya had been making sure to keep her body as small and unnoticeable as possible.

The same paths Lenoa was tracing about, it more or less coincided with where the power would flow whenever I used Water or Blizzard. And for Riveria to be confirming meant she'd likely had her way with my body like this Lenoa had maybe before I woke up tied to the chair. Too bad I hadn't been awake for that.

"Stand still, brat." Lenoa ran her hands all over my back, front, over my neck and face and practically anywhere uncovered. It brought no joy to be manhandled like so.

"It really is." The old lady had a hungry look to her. "I suppose that would indeed make directing your magic harder…" Her eye twinkled. "But that also means the sheer Mind you can channel must be phenomenal, and you say he's new, Nine Hell? And yet for him to be like this… and human as well… or at least, as far as we know."

Lenoa smirked.

Riveria winked at the old lady. "It goes without saying I'd like you to keep this our little secret?"

"Of course, of course." Lenoa then went over to a shelf filled with crystals and removed the tag from one of them. She came back and set the cold and shiny gem stone in my hand. Whether or not it really was a gem stone was a question for another time. "Try directing you Mind into that."

"You mean use a spell?"

Lenoa sighed. "Look's like we'll take a while."

And we did. The old lady was a slave driver with what she wanted me to do. Apparently it was to direct pure untainted magic power into the crystal she gave me. Which was, frankly, easier said than done given every other falna born mage had to discover how to properly muster their magic prior to being able to cast. It was the decisive difference between how my magic and theirs worked, where mine would simply take what it needed, the normal mage needed to first stockpile their power before pushing and coloring said magic with their chants and only then do they release it with their trigger.

That conversation left the three magic users staring at me for a good long while before the ancient witch had the sense to ask just where Loki had found my ass. Riveria lied to her with a straight face, saying that I was some noble's child to whom Loki was greatly indebted to. Lenoa didn't ask more after that.

And so I had to learn how to cast magic the proper way while being harassed by an old lady with a purpose. I still didn't learn though. Since mustering magic was essentially the same thing I did when I tried casting Blizzara or Watera. The jewel lit up a few seconds into the exercise and voila, that was then what Lenoa would use to either color a magic core with my Mind or to attune some crystal to my same signature. There were a few more things she said about how the mana needed to be set first, but a quick and dirty explanation was they basically needed a cast of my magic before they could try molding a crystal to contain it.

Magic was serious business.

#

The next couple of days passed in a blur with one essential goal, to see the extents of my magic's utility and growth.

We already had some good grasp of my current strength, and it was clear my path was more suited to specializing in magic. My magic wasn't broken in the sense of being a showy and all encompassing blow that could turn the tide of a large battle. It was, instead, more terrifying with its efficiency with converting mana into some other more useful effect. Be it in drastically reducing the material needs of a large expedition or serving as a mobile healing station, even my relative independence from needing external supplements, each one of those roles was easily enviable from any first-class adventurer's list of skills.

With our experimentation, we found that my magic's cost would actually lessen the more times I used in it succession. I was able to cast Water upwards of seventy or so times in one sitting before finally running out and needing a potion as long as I did so one after the other without bothering to wait in between, but doing so after every minute actually allowed me to only use it a little shy of twenty, and this interval had a maximum time between casts of thirty seconds. That piece of knowledge shaved a few hours off my life with how many potions I drank to achieve such a precise number, but it was well worth the effort.

Speaking of recovering my magic, we also tried to see how fast I could recover without needing to consume anything and found that thirty minutes was enough for me to go back up to full from zero. Full meaning, like before, being able to cast within the realm of my seventy or so. It made Lefiya's mouth foam—not literally—when she learned of it and that got Riveria's interest piqued all the more with how to get me to develop some wider area of effect spells.

Finn was more interested in the whole producing two barrels' worth of water every thirty minutes, and Gareth was more than happy with the knowledge I could churn out Cures by the shitload the faster I used them. It was absurd, to say the least. And with the constant abuse, my magic stat was now through the roof for someone essentially fresh off the press for an adventurer.

But depending on the growth of my magic stat, maybe I wouldn't even need to try and develop some newer spell.

Thanks to the steady growth of my status, we'd also noticed the increase in strength of Blizzard and Water. We didn't waste all that time figuring out the numbers without doing anything productive after all. We spent most of our time in the sixth floor dealing with the ants where I would continuously pelt them one after the other, after which I'd be fed with a potion and keep up my steady casting.

With about seventy or so casts in between the time I needed to down one vial of the horrible crap, it was a pretty big number to be constantly churning out the magic with. The first dive had me unable to do anything to the ants with Blizzard or Water, but by the third dive I was able to kill one with every four Blizzard spells, meaning the speed of both the main projectile and the after effect were increasing. Water still didn't do anything to the ants, but they had gotten to the point that three at once hitting one of them was enough to flip a monster over.

If I couldn't cough up a large nuke, then a reliable and steady source of damage was just as favorable. Enough to buy time or distract with.

Loki had been faithfully updating my status every night, and it was comforting how well my numbers were adding up. After getting into a good groove with the grinding and some quick projections, my status suggested I would be making it to an S rank in Magic by the end of next week.

But Loki wasn't having any of that.

"You _need_ to take a break every now and then, Tom." Loki was leading me and Aiz through the jam packed streets of Orario. "You and Aiz both, you two have a tendency to disappear into the Dungeon unless someone specifically tells you to stay put and rest."

Our goddess looked back.

"You know, her at least I can somewhat rest easy knowing she can deal with most of everything that comes her way." Loki sighed. "But you, it's a little worrying how Gareth says you'd been more than willing to hole up in that dreary place for hours on end."

"You forget, I was part of the workforce, spending the entire day in a dark and cold place was basically what I did every day."

"But without risking your life."

"In my defense, my life's hardly in danger with how well my magic works, and I get more exercise going down the Dungeon too. It's a lot more exciting than my nine to five, that's for sure."

"Bah, get off it." Loki threw her arms up. "Just roll with the times, alright? It's a festival for Pete's sake!" The goddess spun around to emphasize the point, though with how many people lined the streets she had to do so with a dragging twist to avoid hitting anyone in the face.

"I can't exactly jive with a thing called Monsterphilia…" I mean okay maybe I've looked at a few of those videos before but more for a lack of excitement than an actual fetish.

With a festival all about making a mockery of monsters, it didn't take a genius to point out how big of a mess this was just waiting to hit the fan. Okay, so it was more like about taming them, but on some level, it didn't seem all that worth the hype? Sure, gallant heroes bringing monsters to heel through violence. It wasn't exactly the best way to display supremacy, but at least it wasn't blood sport? It was crueler than if they brought the monsters up just to kill them. And for what? Propaganda? It was too tongue in cheek for the hedonistic gods to bother with such an off-hand manner.

Then again, it could also be a self-aware joke of sorts—like those aliases the people here seem to love so much.

But burning fighting fighter? Or eternal shadow master of the left? And even to go so far as to dub someone the orange thunder fox? It was too much at times.

Loki's face fell. "You didn't have to bring _that_ up."

I shook my head. "Whoever made up the name anyway?"

"That idiot Ganesha, actually."

"…" Aiz didn't seem too interested in much of anything. She was in a casual dress today instead of the usual skimpy backless battle dress she basically wore everyday since I met her. I just hoped she had multiple copies of that and changed it out everyday instead of that one same dress being the go-to.

"But first, business!"

Unfazed despite the sudden turn of priorities, Loki led the two of us up a café. She paid the clerk a few coins and we were led to a small table with just two chairs.

"And where am I supposed to sit?"

"That's real sweet of you, Tom. But no, you and Aiz will be standing guard for now."

There were others here, but none of them bothered staring at the two idiots standing around. Animal people speaking with hushed whispers and more than a few bags of something exchanged hands be it over or under the table. Dwarves and elves sat together, some with clear hostility, others without, and none of them at all carried any weapons besides the blonde next to me.

"Don't look around too closely Tom, some here don't want their business known."

"Right, one of those kinds of places. And here I was thinking this sort of thing only happened in the movies."

"Who do you think made these kinds of places catch on in the first place, eh?"

"I swear, you gods are all annoying."

"Eh, we're beings of essentially all desire and ego. What'd you expect?"

Almost on cue, a hooded figure came up from the stairs.

"Now shut up and make yourself look intimidating."

All conversation died when she, for it was clear it was a she with the hips and the dainty hands poking out, saw Loki. Everyone there, staff and customers both stopped and stared without exception. Aiz cast her gaze down, and heat crept up my chest and up to my cheeks. She was pretty, that much was easy enough to see from the few glimpses the ruffling hood revealed of her face.

Loki waved her over. "Take a seat, we've got stuff to talk about."

It was a little awkward to look the part of a body guard without acting like one. I walked over behind the empty chair and pulled it out for her.

Loki face palmed.

"Oh, thank you." It was a luscious alto, sweet and sultry and maybe a little dark. "I didn't know you kept such interesting company, Loki."

I went back to my place by Loki's side. Aiz was still armed with a sword despite this being one of our forced vacation leaves, and thanks to my own diving these last few days with Gareth with him being so gracious as to carry a small pouch for me to fill up with the crystals of the monsters I'd slain, I was able to upgrade most of my clothes and even buy a few not so essential things like history books, maps, trade manuals, and the sort.

Apparently the gods had only descended to the lower world for the better part of a thousand years and yet Orario the place had existed long before that. As for maps, things only really got recorded after the gods came down thanks to people no longer having to cower so much from the constant influx of monsters. Babel tower was constructed as a lid to cover up the gaping death hole and held there in place with the grace of some god's prayers which Loki was nice enough to add in. She said the guy was some ancient bigwig who helped create the first falna as well.

Loki leaned closer to the table. "My Aizu-tan is the best. Why wouldn't I use every dirty trick in the book to make sure she's attached to me, eh?"

A dainty finger reached up to cup a delicate chin. "I'm not interested in a naked blade." Her hood shifted towards the window. "I prefer a brighter light."

That's when a waiter went up to the table and set down to steaming cups of tea complete with tea bags. The lady thanked the guy who broke out into a gaudy grin, he walked away smiling and wobbling and maybe a little less right in the head. She was hot, but it was too disproportionate of a response.

Aiz was making every effort not to look in her direction.

Loki leaned back and drank deep from her cup with her pinky up. Then she set it down and placed both elbows on the table, her fingers steepled. "And what about my cute Thomas?"

The still unnamed lady, either by intention or simple lack of shits given, crossed her legs beneath the table. "You've never been curious about my thoughts on your children before, Loki."

The goddess grinned. "You've never called any of my children interesting before either."

The lady chuckled. "In a way it's also refreshing to see such a tainted black. Rather tragic, I'd say."

Loki laughed. "Ya hear that Tom, Freya here says you're a whiner."

"I just hope it doesn't mean anything too horrible."

"Well aren't you a curious one." Freya leaned in closer as well. "Tell me, when you look at me, what do you see?"

Freya had purple eyes that held a well's depth and the ocean's sparkling vastness. Her iridescent silver hair was like a river of stars that demanded to be seen and more so to be held and at the same time be revered. It was like looking at a scene instead of a person, that instead of attraction it was awe instead that tugged against the heart.

"Someone definitely not human." It was the first time I'd truly met a god in the flesh… so what the hell did that make Loki? Like… the bottom of the barrel sort?

Speaking of, the red head was glaring with dead eyes. "You were thinking something rude just now."

"Well, yeah. I mean, lady Freya's just… you know, amazing and so god-like, and you… well…" I gestured at her with my hands. "You're _you_."

A foot tried—and failed—to crush mine.

Freya smirked, and good lord was it something else. It was a warmth that pierce straight through the caution I held onto, but it wasn't a vulgar kind of elation, and yet it wasn't pure either. I didn't know whether I wanted to fuck her or cook her pancakes and hot chocolate for breakfast. And both wasn't a very clear answer either, kinda like a literal Schrodinger's one night stand or something.

"My, what an interesting child indeed." She narrowed her eyes. "I wouldn't mind welcoming you too if you wanted."

That's when the mood took a nose dive straight from barely anything to an almost suffocating degree, as if gravity suddenly had a big old grudge against the atmosphere and plucked all air and sound out of existence.

Loki's eyes seemed to glow against the low sunlight. "So, it's a guy then?"

The same smirk.

"A child, and not from my familia at least…"

Then she pouted.

"That explains the banquet…" Loki rubbed her temples. "Then why bother playing around?"

"It would ruin the game if I didn't." Her eyes narrowed. "He's too fragile as he is, like a snow flake of purest ice."

"You've already got the Warlord and _then_ you go for someone else…" Loki shook her head.

"Don't we all simply stay true to ourselves?" Freya smiled. "It was an odd day just like this—"

The goddess stood up with her entire attention to the window.

There was a purpose behind those eyes. "I need to go."

Loki protested but couldn't stop Freya from leaving after she decided it so. It took only a few seconds before we saw her dart her way through the crowd.

Someone came by with the bill and Loki fished out a few coins.

She slumped back into her seat and let out the biggest sigh.

"That could've gone better."

"Eh, it wasn't bad for a meeting with that nympho." Loki turned to Aiz. "Err, you alright?"

"She was… beautiful."

#

Screams tore through the crowd.

"Monsters on the loose!"

"We're all gonna die!"

"Run for your lives!"

People came running in from one of the bigger streets and mashed into the crowd with a lurch. The crazed wave of bodies washed over the stuffy street before everyone else caught up to whatever horrible idea it was that sparked this shit in the first place. There were a few wounded people clutching at bleeding gashes and broken arms.

A silverback—grey-haired muscular monkey-like monsters—from the eleventh floor barreled through the mess of people while chasing after a few runners followed behind by another cluster of monsters from different floors: a hard armored—something like a discount sonic in yellow—crashed though a cabbage stand, a dungeon lizard snapped at an unwitting fellow, and a large orc—about two people's worth of pig-faced giant in Shrek green—lumbered behind with a broken bench held like a club to name a few. There were other monsters too if the incessant cries from further away were anything to go by.

After the meeting with Freya, Loki made a big effort with showing the two of us around the various stalls of food and all manners of trinkets. There were grilled seafood, meat skewers, various weapons done in fancier fare than necessary and some pretty good pieces that Aiz was quick to point out. None of them were as good as the stuff I was borrowing from Gareth though.

Not long after that one of the guild people ran up to us all out of breath and asked for our help. Loki got Aiz to lend the bureaucrats a hand with rounding up the monsters on stock—or to kill them where necessary, then one thing led to another and that was how we eventually found the both of us more in danger of getting run over by the people than of getting attacked by the monsters. And the panic was understandable given how a couple dozen of those beasts fresh from the Dungeon could easily tear through a few hundred unblessed people—assuming no one tried fighting back that is.

And really, what could anyone expect from people who've never had to put their lives on the line? I mean, I sure as hell would've died to maybe the first time I met more than four goblins if it were before I got my falna.

Seriously, who ever got the bright damn idea to make this a thing anyway?

"Tom!" Loki took after the people caught up in the hard-armored's wake, their bodies in a tangled mess and covered in scattered greens.

"I still say this was a horrible idea."

"Shut up and do what you're paid for!"

"I'm not getting paid shit!"

I rushed over to the orc that had already reared its makeshift weapon back, and just like an old friend, the image of that world of ice brought forth the spell. "_Blizzard!"_

The ice ball tore through the air and collided with the wood, shattering it and sparing the guy that had fallen over from turning into a splatter.

But the orc was still rearing to go. Its fleshy arm was still up.

"_Blizzard! Blizzard! Blizzard! Blizzard! Blizzard!"_ Orcs hailed from the tenth floor and were much tougher than the ants, but the latter were armored with shells while this one only had its flabby hide.

Ice collided in twos and threes against its body, not enough to kill but enough to put it off its movement.

"_Blizzard! Blizzard! Blizzard! Blizzard! Blizzard!"_

More ice collided against its chest and face and knees, and the beast had shifted its focus from the innocent victims to the annoying shit pelting it with ice cubes. Well, balls.

It roared—but the guy beneath him had already run away.

The orc took large strides after me.

But it was much too large and slow to catch up.

I turned my back on it and went for the goddess. "Loki, let's go!"

She was still untangling the mess of bodies. "Get the wounded!"

"_Cure_!" Green light issued from my hands and I continued casting one after another. The wounded suddenly found themselves looking good as new though just as dirty. The few broken bones mended themselves back to normal without needing to be manually set. Or at least that's what it looked like when the shattered arms magically went straight back to working order after. Gareth had already warned me of health potions carelessly poured over open fractures and the mess that followed with needing to reopen said injuries to make sure the flesh knit it self back together properly with the bone in the right place.

Good thing nothing bad happened with the first ever human volunteer.

"Thank you great adventurer!"

"You've really saved us!"

"That's the Loki familia for ya!"

"But that orc's still coming for us!"

Yeah, I didn't exactly take care of it. "You guys can run now right? It would really help us out a lot if we all just agreed to not be here anymore?"

A small hand smacked me upside the head.

Loki cleared her throat. "What he meant to say is _let's go people_!" She gave me a look as she helped out an old man get back on his feet. Then she pointed at the few others on the other side of the street still caught in the rubble.

The orc was coming closer now—but further away from the people behind it needing help.

I shifted the image from the ice age to the calming blue of the endless ocean.

"_Water!_ _Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water!_"

Each lumbering step of the orc brought it closer to us, and with each moment so too did the whirlpool grow in my hands. It was a good thing these wisps didn't go after people, else someone might've found themselves meeting an untimely shove of perfectly potable water.

"_Water!_ _Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water!_"

Another finding from our constant grinding sessions with a little bit of inspiration from that little visit with Lenoa allowed me to realize what she meant with _that_ being all over my entire body. Whatever it was was how magic could flow, and from what Riveria and the old coot said, I had the potential to output large amounts of mana in a short amount of time. That is, the resistance to my magic's flow was really low.

The flow was second nature now, feeling the way the power moved and churned. With Blizzard, it was a momentary connection, a flash of sensation and then a release, but with Water, there remained a thread that told the wisps where my body was, and where there was a link, so too could there be direction.

I pushed a flow of power from my center and willed it up my arm.

The chaotic veil of churning water shrunk into a space no larger than a beach ball of white running rapids and a wicked rush.

"That doesn't look very safe."

"No kidding grandpa, come on, let's let the adventurer deal with the monster now." Loki herded the rest of the people to move further away.

The orc was about just another couple meters away now.

Then I shifted the image back into the world of ice—and brought it further away from there, to the nigh infinite maelstroms of torrential water far beyond the scope of human grasp. The word raged within my lips.

Blizzara and Watera were magics beyond my current capacity right now, but with enough casting, it was possible to eke out one or two depending on how much I still had left in the tank. They were stronger, but not by too much, but where my base magics lacked for in flair, the next tier made up for with an added effect.

Watera accelerated its projectiles towards its target instead of just rushing like Water, and Blizzara had a freezing effect upon its explosion. I didn't have the strength to kill this monster right now—but I wasn't completely useless.

I ran towards the monster as the word settled on my tongue.

It roared and lunged towards me with a speed unbefitting of its large body.

The sphere of rushing rapids tore away from my arm and enveloped the beast with a wave.

Then I let loose the waiting spell. "_Blizzara_!"

The water washed over the monster just as the missile formed within the stream.

And exploded into a jagged star of ice—together with the water that had overtaken its body. The monster fell to its knees after that, its face completely covered in ice, and its arms trying to flail about with getting the stuff off it. But the frost was too far gone.

"Okay, now get the others!"

Loki was helping the last of the people on this side of the street while I went over to the others still lying on the ground. Cure fired off one after the other restoring the wounded and bringing them back to their feet. Thanks and cheers went around, and off into the distance the figure of a lone girl flew to and from rooftop to rooftop accompanied only by the occasional flash of silver. A few more casts of Cure had the last of the injured back up and running, then the girl's silhouette in the sky rushed over to where we were before darting off to some other street.

A hand found my shoulder. "Let's go Tom, let's go meet up with the others."

Loki led the way to another tangled mess of people and chaos where we found Tione, Tiona, and Lefiya fighting off these bright green tentacle things. Rubble and ruin littered the streets in long sweeping gashes, the handiwork of the things and from the looks of it they'd come bursting out of the ground from the many holes leading down to the sewers as Loki called them.

The two level fives were beating back the things with their bare fists but that they didn't immediately burst into gore was more than telling.

"That can't be right."

"We won't be much help here Tom, let's go for the people instead."

Loki took after the nearest group of people cowering behind the fallen balcony of a nearby building. The bricks served to shield them from view while Tione and her sister continued the fight. Each time one of their blows landed, the sisters would yelp and shake their limbs.

"These are too hard!" Tiona stomped the ground into a crater.

Her sister face palmed. "And now you're just making a bigger problem who have to clean this up."

The tentacles went after them again.

Lefiya stoof a ways away from the battle with her hands in front of her.

Loki and I reached the people and found a few of them nursing a few wounds.

"_Cure_."

Green light enveloped a man bleeding from his shoulder.

Then a bright green lance pierced straight into one of his legs as the world spun around me with an unbearable force.

"Tom!"

I fell to my knees as the strength left my legs, only for the slithering lance to retreat and a sickening agony to spread from my stomach.

It was a dull and spreading pulsing that rendered my limbs inert and my thoughts so unnaturally focused and on point. The people were frozen in place still on the ground, their faces all of terror and fear. Loki was crouched over me with my head in her hands. She was screaming something but the crashing and thundering around us deafened everything else. The ground shook every now and then.

There was a strange calmness as the cold and pain mingled together.

Turns out there was this problem to having too much faith in being able to heal myself, that was to be so incapacitated as to be unable to chant. Now if only there was a way to use magic without saying anything then that would've been better.

Fear, perhaps, came over with the shivers—each little quiver and spasm bringing a bigger crack of pain, one worse after the other.

Or, maybe more than fear was regret.

It was a regret for being so weak, that had I been flying than maybe things would've turned out better. But mustering joy while in a panic was easier said than done. To be able to hold onto a feeling so well and to let it fill the body from the heart all the way down to the toes was an exercise of utmost focus, and sure, the job of wielding magic and truly flying without outside aide was there, but though the mind was willing…

But rage was different. Anger and hatred was always within arms reach given the circumstances that bound me, given the separation and the unwanted burden of having to make my way back. I was a victim of chance and the fates. And so with no one else but myself to rely on, I found solace in the one thing that never failed. It came like a faithful friend and stayed like an unwanted storm. It never waned or weakened.

But anger had its limits, and Madness could only destroy. My rage wouldn't save anyone. Not me, and definitely not the people in front of me. It wouldn't bring me home, but it felt good nonetheless.

Those monsters were simply much too strong, and I'd even lost my voice to the pain.

Yet my mind remained.

And behind that regret burned an ever present rage. The same rage that roared against the situation even now. The rage that had cultivated from my very roots all the way to here a world away. Rage, rage against the unfairness. Rage against the madness of a man out of time and space. Rage against the fear that keeps me on my back.

I could not make my way back home buried beneath the ground.

Only with my own two feet can I cross the boundary that thrust me here.

Stand.

Stand and fight.

"Tom!?"

Loki's face glowed with a sinister red.

And then a word politely knocked against clenched teeth.

"_Curaga_."


End file.
